Legacy of the Lion: Year One
by Sunset Moth
Summary: HPFF8 xover, twin fic Their parents dead, Harry and Maverick are placed under the care of Ms. Banderwell, an elderly woman who absolutely adores Mav because of his status as the BWL. Truths are revealed after Harry is transported to another world. AU
1. Chapter 1

I'm only going to say this once...

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and Final Fantasy. Really I don't.

Warning: OCs (a few), crappy descriptions, boring theories, and slow updates. You've been warned.

* * *

Chapter One 

"Maverick dear, I'm going out for a bit. Do you need anything?" Ms. Banderwell asked sweetly as she slipped a crimson red bag on her shoulder.

"No, I'm ok, Ms. Banderwell." Maverick answered back, his voice coming from up the stairs.

Satisfied, Ms. Banderwell turned to go when Harry who was cleaning the floor cleared his throat.

"Yes, Harry?" Ms. Banderwell snapped, glaring daggers at the boy.

"Some soap would be nice, Ms. Banderwell." Harry said hopefully.

The old woman gave an irritated sigh and moved for the door. "Very well, child; I'll add it to the list."

Harry smiled in relief and turned back to his scrubbing. Once he was finished with the floor, he put away the cleaning materials and checked his list. "I've done the floors," the boy murmured and grinned before shoving his list back into his jean pocket. "And I'm done for the day. Better get the map; I think there are still a couple of places I haven't checked yet."

He ran for his room, his small legs running as fast as they could. He stopped and took a deep breath before pushing the door open. Walking inside his room, he took the roughly sketched map from his wooden desk and turned to go.

Once he was outside, he looked at the map, his index finger tracing a path that he had not yet taken. "I'll start here," the boy said to himself.

"Hey, Harry! I'm going to read a bit; don't interrupt me," Maverick shouted from his place up the stairs.

"Yes, Maverick," Harry said, his voice loud enough to be heard. "I won't disturb you." Rolling his eyes, he grumbled to himself, "Yes, your majesty; whatever you say, your majesty." He walked towards the place he had marked on his map looking around.

The Potter mansion was a huge place, and it seemed even larger coming from a child of five. There were times when Harry got lost. He dared not ask their caretaker for help and had often faced the problem by retracing his steps. Now, he had drawn a map to help him.

Arriving at his destination, he took a moment to sit down and pencil in a bit more lines on his map. He stood up and pushed the door.

At first glance, it looked like any other bedroom Harry had seen. He was about to take note of this when something caught his eye. Near the closet was a full-body mirror, its frame was ornately decorated. Harry placed his map on top of the four poster bed and moved to look at the mirror.

He was surprised to see a full grown man stare right at him. Green eyes looked at him curiously. Harry frowned. He waved his hand and saw the man wave back. Who was this man? Surely it couldn't be—

His scar. The man had the same one etched on his forehead. He traced the thunderbolt-like mark with his fingertips and gulped. Was this what he looked like when he was older?

He touched the mirror.

* * *

Dimensions in the form of medium-sized crystal balls shifted and rolled, moving themselves in order. One accidentally fell off the shelf; it landed softly on the ground and rolled towards a chair leg. 

The Watcher of the Gates, Guardian of the Verses, moved gracefully for the Dimension ball, black flowing robes swooshed silently. Slender fingers picked up the ball and placed it back on the shelf. Turning away, he did not notice the ball fall down once more. Nor did he notice it move towards another shelf where another world waited for it. This one fell as well.

Later, he would wonder why there were two Dimensions missing and a new one turning up. He would have to ask his senior about it.

* * *

A/N: Inspired by NeoRyu777's A World of Difference. Hopefully, I've placed a couple of original ideas. 

Reviews are always appreciated.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

_Harry found himself standing before three kneeling men, his stance was rigid, his face void of any emotion. "On whose side are you on?" Harry asked, his voice calm._

_The first to stand was the one on his right. The man was masked; a snake coming out of a skull was embedded against his forearm. "I fight by your side."_

_Harry's gaze flickered to the other two and again, he repeated his question._

_The man on his left stood and he too, was also masked. Like the man on Harry's right, he also had a skull with a snake coming out if it's mouth. On his right forearm though, he carried a mark of the phoenix. "I am loyal only to you." The man intoned._

_Harry repeated his question a last time. The man who knelt before him hesitated before standing up. Harry did not move, nor did he react._

_An older Maverick stared back at him, a weary expression on his face. He bore a tattoo of the phoenix on his left cheek. He closed his eyes and nodded. "I will follow you, Brother."_

Harry gasped and opened his eyes, wincing as the sun's rays drew tears. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His brother? Following _him_? Shakily, he moved into a sitting position. Of course, it would never happen. Maverick was, after all, the Boy-Who-Lived.

_And Ms. Banderwell makes sure everyone remembers that fact everyday. _Harry thought wryly. If anything, it should be _him_ following his brother.

"Are you alright, dear?"

Harry opened his eyes and saw an elderly woman stare back at him. He smiled, "I'm fine, thank you for asking," said Harry politely.

The woman, a doctor from her clothes, nodded. "That's good to know. Let me Scan you though, just in case."

Harry frowned, "Scan?"

"It lets me see your internal body structure as well body organs," the doctor explained. "Don't worry, it's completely harmless."

"I-I've never heard of such a spell before," Harry said, surprised.

"You haven't?" The doctor laughed. "Well, you're just a little boy, after all."

Harry pouted, "I read a lot," the boy said indignantly. "Well, when I get the time, anyway," he grumbled to himself.

"Where are your parents?"

"My parents are dead," Harry murmured, looking down. "They were killed by You-Know-Who."

"I'm afraid I don't know _who_ this person is," the doctor said, frowning.

Harry blinked. "You don't? But that's impossible! _Everyone_ knows about the Dark Lord."

"What's your name, boy?"

"Harry Potter, Ma'am," Harry answered.

"Right," the doctor nodded, "you may call me Dr. Kadowaki."

"The name doesn't even ring any bells, Doctor?" Harry asked hopefully, "Maverick Potter? Boy-Who-Lived?"

Dr. Kadowaki's frown deepened. "I'll get back on you, Harry. There's something I have to check."

Briskly, she strode outside the infirmary. Spotting a student, she called to him, "Squall, could you be a dear and bring the headmaster here for me?"

The boy nodded. He jogged towards the elevator in the middle of the Garden.

Dr. Kadowaki watched Squall for a moment before returning to the infirmary. She saw Harry looking around curiously. "Even though you've never heard of Scan, will you still let me do it?" She asked.

The boy tilted his head and nodded after a few seconds of thought. "You may, Dr. Kadowaki."

"Scan," the doctor spoke in a clear tone. Her vision blurred for a moment before she saw Harry's internal body. "Seems fine," she whispered to herself softly, after quickly examining the body. A snap of her wrist changed the image in front of her. In its place was a small description of the boy as well as some pictures from his memories.

_Harry James Potter_

_Age: 5 years old_

_Date of birth: 31 July 1980_

_Description:__Having defeated Voldemort when he was younger, Harry plays a major role in his world. The very scar embedded on his head is proof of this._

Dr. Kadowaki blinked and snapped her wrist once more. Once the images had left her vision, she asked, "Is this Dark Lord of yours by the name of Voldemort?"

Harry, shocked that the doctor had called You-Know-Who by his name, simply nodded.

"And were—"

"Dr. Kadowaki, you asked for me?" Headmaster Cid said as he walked towards the doctor and her patient.

"Why, yes, Headmaster," Dr. Kadowaki answered. "It's about our…guest."

"The boy Mr. Dincht found outside the Garden?" At Dr. Kadowaki's nod, Headmaster Cid frowned. "Why? What's wrong?"

"I'm afraid he is a dimension traveler. Just like Simon."

"He is?" The headmaster asked. Looking at Harry, he sighed. "How old is he?"

"Five, sir, the same age Simon was when he first came here," Dr. Kadowaki answered.

"Do you think there is a connection?" Headmaster Cid asked. Turning to the boy, he spoke, "How did you come by here?"

"I—the last thing I remember was touching a mirror…sir." Harry answered hesitantly.

"Have you Scanned him, Doctor?" The headmaster asked. When Dr. Kadowaki nodded, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "What did it say?"

"It says that he defeated an evil man when he was younger and that he is to play a major role in their world."

"But that can't be right!" Harry shouted and blushed.

"What do you mean, dear?" Dr. Kadowaki asked. "A Scan is never wrong."

"My brother is the Boy-Who-Lived!" Harry argued. "He defeated You-Know-Who, not—"

_Harry's vision blurred and the images in front of him changed and shifted like furniture being moved or picture frames being replaced. When it had formed a complete scene before him, life began to move once more._

"_Aah, the Potter Twins," the cloaked man whispered, slithering towards the crib. "Which of you will be the key to my demise?" Touching the green-eyed babe with his wand, he asked, "Is it you, boy?" His wand moved to rest on top of the younger babe's forehead. "Or is it you?"_

_A sickly green aura appeared around the man and touched the two children lightly. A guttural laugh erupted from his lips. Turning back to look at Harry, he spoke, "You my boy, your power shines like a tiny sun. You might have been my enemy, but I think you would do better as an ally." Glaring at Maverick, he sniffed haughtily, "You, on the other, are much too weak for my liking. Avada Kedavra!"_

_Baby Harry touched his brother and raised his left hand. Voldemort howled in pain as the spell rebounded off Harry's shield and hit him on the chest. Power surged from Voldemort and outward. The raw energy seared through Harry's skin, forming a lightning bolt on his forehead. Besides him Maverick cried out in pain. It seemed that he too absorbed some of the energy; a cross was etched against his forehead._

"_This isn't over yet!" Voldemort screamed. "I will return, mark my words, Potter!"_

_Everything stopped once more._

"Harry dear, are you alright?" Dr. Kadowaki asked, shaking Harry's shoulder lightly.

"I-I'm fine, I think," Harry said, rubbing his scar thoughtfully.

"What happened?" Headmaster Cid asked, frowning. "You were talking to us and then…you looked like you were gone or something."

"I saw what happened…what happened four years ago," Harry answered. "I was there. I saw him try to kill my brother. Except…" He paused and hesitated.

"Except what, Harry?"

"Except I stopped him," Harry murmured. He licked his lips and continued. "I raised my arm and the spell…just stopped." Looking up, he gulped. "I think I really am the Boy-Who-Lived."

"Is this man Voldemort?"

"Yes," Harry nodded.

"And is he dead?"

"I doubt it," Harry admitted. "Before I came back to my senses, he said that it wasn't over yet. That he was going to return."

"I'm beginning to understand why you were sent here, Harry," the headmaster said, looking at the boy thoughtfully. "If the man is indeed still alive—"

"I doubt he's alive," Harry cut in. "You see, he used the Killing Curse on my brother and it rebounded. If he was an ordinary person, he'd be dead, sir. But because he is…what he is, he is a soul without a body, sir."

"I see," Headmaster Cid rubbed his forehead. "And how do you know this?"

Harry shrugged. "Gut feeling, sir."

"We cannot prove anything then," the headmaster said. "He may really be dead and a threat no longer hangs, but, we will still help you, Harry. You see, you are inside the Balamb Garden, a training center for creating future mercenaries, future SeeD."

Harry nodded solemnly. "I understand."

"Dr. Kadowaki?" A voice inquired from behind them. Harry strained his neck, trying to get a good look at the source of the voice.

A small boy walked towards them. He was holding his arm. "I was in the library, Ma'am, and I—" he gulped and smiled, "—well I sort of fell and broke my arm."

"Simon Greene! How many times have I told you—"

"If I need a book from a higher shelf I ask an older student," Simon recited and rolled his eyes. "I know, Dr. Kadowaki."

"Then why didn't you heed my advice?"

"I thought I could reach it," the boy pouted.

"Well," Headmaster Cid said and rubbed his glasses, "since you are already here, I might as well introduce you to each other. Harry this is Simon Greene. Simon, Harry Potter."

"Nice to meet you," Harry murmured shyly. He didn't mind talking to older people, but children near his age was a mystery to him. Back home, Maverick was the only child he ever knew.

Simon grinned and ran to Harry's side. He grabbed Harry's hand and shook it furiously. "Nice to meet you too, Harry. It's awfully lonely here coz I'm the only one my age and everyone's too busy with their studies. I'm really glad you came. Do you want me to show you to the library? They have a lot of books there. But—"

"Simon," Headmaster Cid called to the energetic kid.

"Yes, sir?"

"I think it would be best if you had your arm healed before you go bringing Harry here to the library or any place for that matter." The headmaster suggested.

"Righto, sir!" Simon turned to look at Dr. Kadowaki. "Heal me. Please?"

Dr. Kadowaki chuckled, "Alright, dear, no need to hurry." She concentrated on Simon's arm and murmured the word Cura. Immediately, the arm healed, looking as good as new.

Stretching, Simon moved his arm experimentally and grinned. "It feels great, Doctor. Thank you!" Hugging the woman, he ran out of the room before stopping. "You wanna come, Harry? We can read books together."

Harry hesitated and looked at Headmaster Cid questioningly. The man smiled. "You may go, Harry. I'll discuss your studies after lunch. Simon will bring you to my office."

Harry smiled brightly and jumped off the bed. He ran towards Simon, and together, the two ran towards the library.

"I think Harry will fit here quite nicely," Dr. Kadowaki said softly. Headmaster Cid couldn't agree more.

* * *

"So how did you get here, Harry?" Simon asked. "I was just wondering…coz you know…I wanted to know."

"They told me that I'm a dimension traveler," Harry hesitated, "like you."

"Are you sad?" Simon stopped walking and turned to face Harry. "Do you want to go back?"

"I like this place," Harry admitted. "It's just…I have to go back soon."

"Why?" Simon asked. "I like it here. I don't ever wanna go back."

Harry sighed. "There's an evil man back…home. He killed my parents. I have to go back and stop him from killing more."

"Why you?" Simon asked. "There's gotta be others there who can stop him. You're just a kid after all."

"Dunno, really," Harry confessed. "I just know I have to stop him. If I managed to stop him when no one else could…then maybe I have something that no one else has."

"True," Simon said, nodding. He grinned. "But you don't have to worry about that now. Come on. There are a lot of books that need reading."

"Simon?"

"Yeah?" Simon asked, looking at Harry inquisitively.

"Why is it that you don't want to go back?" Harry asked.

Simon turned to look at the bookcase in front of him. Running his fingers along the line of books, he shrugged. "I don't have a home to go back to. Before I went here…" He shook his head sadly. "I hate talking about the past. Sorry, Harry." He gave the boy a brief smile before pulling a couple of books off the shelf. "You can read these. They're really good! And if you need some help with the long words you can ask me or consult the dictionary over there."

* * *

While two young boys read to their hearts content, an old woman from another dimension stalked back and forth anxiously.

"Where is that boy?!" Ms. Banderwell huffed. "Maverick, my dear, did you see him? Did you see your brother?"

"No, Ms. Banderwell," the small boy twiddled his thumbs. "I was busy reading my book. I wouldn't know if he ran away or something."

Ms. Banderwell sighed. "I'll have to tell Dumbledore about this."

"Ms. Banderwell?"

"Yes, Maverick?" Ms. Banderwell asked, smiling at her little angel.

"If Harry doesn't come back, can I have his room?"

* * *

"I've brought him here," Simon said and grinned, "just like you ordered." He saluted smartly and pushed Harry forward. "I'd give you a receipt, but I lost it along the way."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Well, sir? Have you decided on my…training?"

The headmaster nodded. "As a matter of fact, I have." Handing Harry a copy of the schedule, he continued. "I have assigned a tutor that will be guiding you along while you train here at Balamb Garden for five years." He raised a hand, stopping Harry from interrupting. "His name is Donovan Heavenguard and he is well versed in the art of combat. What is it Harry?"

"Five years, sir?"

"Yes, I have spoken with a friend of mine and he has agreed to build a machine that will bring you back to your dimension. He told me that it will take five years to complete such a device. Are you alright with this?"

_At least I'll be back in time to attend Hogwarts. _Harry thought, disregarding the fact that it might be a coincidence. He nodded. "I have no complaints."

"Headmaster Cid?"

"Yes, Simon?"

"Can I study alongside Harry? Only, he needs someone his age and I always wanted to study here. Plus, Harry needs someone to train with! Can you imagine him sparring with a ten-year old? That'd be unfair, sir. And—"

Headmaster Cid laughed and nodded. "I understand, Simon. I'm sure Harry will appreciate the company."

* * *

When the two boys arrived, Donovan Heavenguard quickly made them sit down and explained the synopsis for the first two months since classes haven't started yet. They were only going to study for five years so they had to catch up on two years worth of lessons. This is because the usual span of SeeD training was for seven to ten years.

He gave Harry and Simon each a bracelet originally created by Dr. Odine and later modified by the headmaster's friend, Professor Windspeed. This was designed to change the user's body, aging it so that the two boys would look older, thus avoiding unwanted suspicion.

He also gave them two boxes with their names written on it. The contents include books which they will be studying for the next five years as well as pre-assigned homework. The reading and homework were to be done on their free time; Donovan, as it turns out, was only going to help them with the practicals.

After the explanation, he dismissed them; official training was to be done tomorrow. Today, they were going to go Balamb to buy training and casual clothes as well as basic weaponry.

* * *

"Don't know why we have to do some baby-sitting," the SeeD trainee grumbled under his breath. To his companion, he asked clearly, "Hey, Oulan, why do we have to look after a couple of twelve-year olds again?"

The petite red-head looked at him lazily. "Because it pays," she said, giving Math an impish grin.

"So what we get isn't part of our allowance?" He asked hopefully.

She snorted, "Who ever gave you that idea, Mathowny?"

"Damn, bugger and damn." The young man grumbled, lashing his long sword around.

"Watch where you point that thing," Simon quipped. "You might remove an eye or something, Dr. Kadowaki says."

Math was about to reply when Oulan took out her tonfas and moved into a fighting position. "Bite Bugs, three of them," she said calmly.

"You two, stay behind!" Math ordered. He moved into a fighting stance as well. "Eat my dirt you Bite Buggers!" He slashed the one on his right, making Oulan curse in annoyance.

"I was going to Draw, you idiot." Oulan snarled. She took down another Bite Bug before slamming her tonfa against Math's head.

The man yelped in pain. "What did you do that for?" He whined. "I could have been killed."

Oulan ignored him and Drew some Fire Spells from the Bite Bug. She then used a Fire Spell on a hovering Glacial Eye just behind Harry and Simon, letting Math take care of the fiend behind her.

"Nice teamwork!" Simon said and grinned, giving the two of them a thumbs-up. Turning to Harry, he said cheerfully, "I wish we could do that sometime."

Harry smiled back. "Yeah, it looks like fun."

"Kids," Math said, rubbing his forehead and sighing.

"Teenagers," the two boys said, imitating Math. Oulan simply laughed.

It took them about half an hour to get to Balamb. Surprisingly, the monster-encounter rate was pretty low, which meant they only had to dispatch a couple of Bite Bugs and Glacial Eyes along the way.

Math immediately went for the Item Shop where Triple Triad cards were sold. Oulan, on the other hand, dragged the two boys into a clothes shop. Quickly, they were fitted into several clothes and shoes. They tried to protest, saying that they could choose their own, but she silenced them with a glare.

The weapon shop was there next destination. The thin bald man who was in charge of the counter offered to upgrade Oulan's weapon but found to his dismay that he had to look for a weapon for the two youngsters.

Normally, weapon training in Balamb Garden would start two years before a student graduates. This is because they believe that the real training starts after school which is why basics are the only things taught in the Garden. If they wanted to know more, they can hire a tutor to train them.

This also explains why few weapons are modeled for young students.

Grumbling to himself, the man brought them to the back of the store where weapons for younger students were kept. Harry was drawn to a display of katanas while Simon to a table of paired weapons.

When they stepped outside the store, Harry carried with him a simple katana with a dark brown hilt. It may have looked a bit used but it was the sharpest one in the store's display and would serve Harry well. He carried no wakizashi however, because the blade would only serve as a burden for someone as young as he.

Simon, on the other hand, carried a pair of twin sabers. He insisted on it, even though it looked far too heavy for him. Surprisingly, the swords, although heavy, fitted their heights well.

"So, anywhere else you want to go?" Oulan asked.

"Home seems like a nice place right now." Simon said and sighed. Harry nodded in agreement.

Oulan grinned. "That's coz you're lugging a pair of swordies too heavy for you."

Simon pouted. "Am not!"

"Am too!" They heard a voice shout from behind. When they turned around, they saw Math. He gave them a salute, "Yo."

"Hey, Math," Simon called to the older SeeD trainee. "We're going home right?"

"Yeah, we're going home."

* * *

A/N: Oulan and her tonfas are based from Suikoden 2. Simon's role won't be long here. He will appear later on though. (And when I mean later on...I really mean later on.)

Read and review. Please. The reviews encourage me.


	3. Chapter 3

"Blah" -- normal speech  
_Blah _-- thoughts  
_(Blah.) -- _parseltongue/mind talk

* * *

Chapter Three 

"Good night, Maverick," Ms. Banderwell said and tried to kiss the boy's forehead. Maverick rolled to his side, avoiding it, and snuggled closer to the bear he had wrapped around his arm.

The old woman sighed, closed the lights and walked back to her room. Once she was gone, Maverick slipped off his bed and quietly moved down the stairs. Wincing as he heard the floorboards creak, he went down the last couple of steps as fast as he could.

Moving slowly, he approached his brother's door and opened it. He climbed on top of Harry's bed and pulled the covers. Curling, he closed his eyes and reminded himself to wake up early; he had to go back to his room before Ms. Banderwell came to wake him up. Smiling a bit, he yawned. "Good night, Bro."

* * *

Two months had passed since Harry had arrived in Balamb Garden. Right now, he and Simon were trekking along a forest trail, listening to Donovan talk about different medicinal herbs found in the forests of Balamb and the value of these plants in the market. 

As future mercenaries, they have to know methods that will put some gil in their pockets. After all, not many hired mercenaries. Not when the world was at peace, anyway.

Harry let his eyes drift along the trail. He didn't understand why he had to learn about plants. He was from another world which meant that he wouldn't need the knowledge once he got back.

_(Meat. I smell meat. Two-leggers are about, brother.)_

_(One of them reeks of power. It is better to avoid them.)_

_(I don't care if they reek of piss! I'm hungry, brother. Let me eat them.)_

_(Very well. I'll provide the distraction. Grab the two weaklings.)_

Harry blinked. Tilting his head, he frowned. "Did you hear something?" Harry asked.

Simon shook his head, "Nope, not a thing."

"But—"

_(Let's go!)_

Harry stopped in mid-sentence and closed his eyes, concentrating on the voice. His eyes snapped open as he fell to his knees, clutching his head and breathing hard. He could feel it now, there were no longer words coming from the fiends but images of former hunts. Blood dripped from their mouths as they devoured humans and beasts alike.

One image clearly came to mind. Harry found himself standing inside what felt like a moving vehicle. With him were two Anacondaurs and three Geezards. The larger of the two Anacondaurs wrapped his tail around a Geezard, biting its head of before moving to do the same to the other two. The smaller one devoured his share of the meal.

The vehicle suddenly stopped. The doors from Harry's left swung open. Harry saw two angry men who carried guns, shouting at the Anacondaurs. One of them kept complaining about his pay already short enough as it is.

The two Anacondaurs didn't seem to mind having guns pointed at them. They slithered towards the two and each grabbed a man. Harry looked away as he heard the sickening crunch of bones.

He heard a crash but couldn't see what it was; his vision was still blurred by the images.

_(Stop! Stop, damn it! Stop…)_

Tears fell down his face as the images slowly dissipated. He wiped them away and blinked. Two Anacondaurs stared at him.

_(The little one speaks, brother.)_

_(He does, doesn't he?) _

_(Should we eat him, brother?)_

_(The strong one has spotted us. It's better to run away.)_

Donovan frowned as the two fiends slithered away. "What's two mid-level Anacondaurs doing here?" He asked the air, as he slipped his sword, Titan, back in its place. "And more importantly, why is my student able to communicate with them?"

"You can hear them speak?" Harry asked, startled.

Donovan shook his head. "No, but I can determine the type of fiend through the sounds they make."

"You must have really sharp ears then!" Simon chirped. "Do you think I can get mine sharp as well?"

"Eh?" Donovan blinked. "I guess…"

"Awright!"

"But what about me?" Harry asked. "Why can I talk to monsters?"

Donovan shrugged. "I honestly don't know, Harry. Perhaps it's a gift that only people from your world have."

"Maybe…" _But what about the other thing I did? _Harry wondered. _Perhaps it's a "gift" as well. _He looked at Simon who was examining a plant Donovan had pointed out earlier. _Let's try it on him…I doubt he'll mind._

Closing his eyes, he concentrated, thinking of Simon.

He found himself in a web of black willowy tendrils. He tried to clamber upward, but the strands were slippery and he found himself slipping downwards instead. In attempt to stop himself from falling even farther, he tried to jump up.

It didn't help.

Harry shook his head, bringing himself back to consciousness and sighed. Well so much for that. _Perhaps, I could find some books on mind reading, _Harry thought, trudging forward so as not to get left behind.

* * *

It was past midnight. Harry slid down his bed and changed his clothes. Careful not to wake Simon, who had been studying hard for a test, he grabbed a pair of boots and slipped his katana on. He was now eight years old, fifteen years if he placed the bracelet on, and a lot taller than he used to be. The katana he carried was still a wee bit long for him though. 

Putting on a pair of boots, he walked outside the room and closed the door quietly. Now he could go to the training center for some monster hunting.

He jogged lightly towards his destination. Hiding from the students who were still up and awake, he ran for the room before they could see him and wonder why a small eight-year old was walking around Balamb Garden. At night.

He pulled the katana out of its sheathe and took a deep breath. "Here I go."

His mind alert and his ears sharp, he moved cautiously around the room. Something moved from his left. Immediately, he jumped to the side and rolled, moving into a fighting position. His dodging skills were near-perfect, thanks to Donovan's countless drills.

Tightening his grip, he ran forward and brought his katana down, slicing one of the Grat's tentacles. Wincing, he sliced another tentacle that had managed to wrap itself around his ankle. He jumped back before another tentacle could touch him. Dodging the two remaining tentacles, he slipped under the Grat's defenses, and cut the fiend neatly in half.

"Seriously, why is this training center filled only with Grats?" He grumbled.

"Well, considering the fact that NORG was such a cheapskate, he hired a bunch of grunts to look for fiends that can be placed here in the training center. I'm afraid the fiends they captured were too much for them though, because Donovan went to my office a little earlier with a report about misplaced monsters in the Balamb Forests."

Turning around, his eyes widened. "Oh, he-hello, sir," he stuttered, waving weakly at the headmaster.

The man chuckled. "Hello, Harry. How are your studies?"

"Great," Harry smiled. "I'm really enjoying my stay here." _Except for Donovan's torture sessions. _Harry thought wryly, recalling a certain event that involved running a hundred laps and rampaging beasts.

"Wonderful," Headmaster Cid said and smiled. "I was worried that you were falling behind."

Harry shook his head, "Not at all, sir."

"Can we talk outside the training center, Harry?"

Harry nodded and followed the headmaster outside the room. "Is there something you wish to discuss with me, sir?"

"Just the matter of your studies, Harry," Headmaster Cid said. "Your teachers tell me that you're doing extremely well in your classes. Is this right?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what are you currently learning?"

"The geography of this world, politics of the different Gardens, the history of the Sorceress wars, intermediate combat lessons including hand-to-hand combat and weapons training, the behavioral patterns of monsters as well as the theory behind Drawing Spells." Harry said and smiled weakly. "Gives me headaches just thinking about it."

Headmaster Cid smiled back. "Well, they are a handful, even for children older than you."

"Is that all, sir?" Harry asked impatiently. Dawn was nearing and he wanted to train some more before going to bed.

"Actually, I'm giving you a late birthday present," the man said and reached into his pocket. "Your own Guardian Force."

Harry couldn't help but gape as he saw the headmaster bring out a stone which looked similar to a Tiger's eye. "But, we're only supposed to get one during our final year, sir." Harry argued feebly. "Besides, Simon—"

"Is getting his own GF," the headmaster cut in. "You don't have to worry a thing, Harry."

The boy gulped and reached for the stone. "Thank you, sir."

"Tomorrow, Donovan will train you and young Simon in the art of Drawing and Summoning." Headmaster Cid grinned and ruffled Harry's hair. "You should get some sleep if I were you."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, it's going to be hell all over again."

* * *

_The art of Drawing requires something more than just concentration. Spells are usually found inside the "magical" core of a human, a beast or even an item. Without the guidance of a Guardian Force, Drawing spells can be very difficult; some say that it is even impossible to do. _

Harry closed the book he was reading and let himself fall against his bed._ My brain is so tired, I think it's gonna blow any second now._

_(Don't worry; I don't think anyone has ever died of mental fatigue before.)_

_(Q, I didn't know you're the chatty type.)_

_(I'm not.)_

Harry smiled a bit and closed his eyes. Concentrating, he brought himself into his mind where his thoughts and memories resided.

His mind was modeled after the Potter Mansion. From the gardens outside where his childhood memories are kept to his room, where he was currently standing; it was a huge place, and had many rooms which Harry used to hide his thoughts, memories and whatever information he had acquired over the years. A miniature-sized Quezacotl was perched on top of a chair.

"_Harry," _the Guardian Force greeted the boy amiably. _"What brings you here?"_

The boy smiled. "This place is mess," he explained, "so I thought I would do some cleaning."

The great GF bobbed his head. _"I agree. Do you need some of my assistance?"_

Harry nodded. "We could start at the library."

"_Aah. That's where you store the knowledge you've acquired, am I right?"_

"Yes, you are."

Quezacotl perched himself on top of Harry's shoulder. _"You've been cleaning for sometime now." _The bird noted.

"Well I'm used to it," Harry said, ignoring Maverick's room. It was filled with his most painful memories, and he didn't have the heart to clean it yet. "Back in my dimension, I would always do the cleaning in the house."

"_What's in that room?" _Quezacotl asked, pointing his beak at a room to Harry's left. _"I sense something different about that place."_

"That's because there's a doorway there, a doorway to Balamb Garden," Harry explained.

"_A doorway? Don't you think this place is big enough for your memories?"_

"Don't blame me," Harry said and shrugged. "When I first came here, the house…everything was already in place. The only thing I had to do was rearrange some stuff."

"_Are you saying that you unconsciously created this place?"_

"Can you think of a better explanation?"

"_No," _the great bird shook his head. _"I'm afraid not."_

* * *

"Cure," Harry said, his hand over his shoulder where a large ugly gash was. Feeling the skin knit back together, he breathed a sigh of relief. 

_(Hey, Q, how many Spells do I have left?) _

_(You have ten Cures, four Blizzards, five Fires and three Slow Spells stored, Harry.)_

_(Can you repeat that?)_

_(You have ten Cures, four Blizzards, five Fires and three Slow Spells stored.) _The GF said patiently.

_(How can that be possible?) _Harry demanded. _(I used up all of my Fire spells and at least half of my Cures.) _

Harry could feel the GF hesitate before speaking. _(Your magical core is different, Harry.) _The GF said. _(I think you better sit before I explain it all to you.)_

_(Alright.) _Harry sat.

_(Do you ever wonder why the fiends you fight always have an unlimited number of spells to Draw from?)_

_(I guess not.) _Harry admitted.

_(That's because their magical core is what we call a Producer core.)_

_(A Producer core?) _Harry asked.

_(There are three possible magical cores: the Producer core for plants and fiends, the Consumer core for us GFs and the Decomposer core for you humans.)_

_(Eh?)_

Ignoring Harry's look of confusion, Quezacotl continued. _(The humans believed that our role as GFs in Drawing, is to guide the Spells from one magical core into another. This isn't completely true. We are the ones responsible for locating the Spells, yes, but we do not simply place it in our humans' cores. We consume this Spells, breaking it down into components. Once we are done, we give the leftovers to our humans' magical cores. They are the ones responsible for rebuilding these Spells, adding a bit of their own magic into it.) _

_(What happens when a human casts a Spell?)_

_(Once the human casts the Spell, it is removed from the storage chamber of the magical core and converted from a Potential Spell into a Kinetic one or a Spell in motion as we like to call it. When the Spell is cast, a magical byproduct is also produced. The Producer cores strive on this byproduct to create their own Spells. In a way, I guess this is the Spell cycle of this world.) _

_(Sounds a lot like energy to me.)_

_(Well, in a way, it is energy, magical energy in a concentrated form.)_

_(Oh.) _Harry scratched his head. _(So what does this have to do with my core?)_

_(Your core is very different. It is both a Producer and a Decomposer. Like other human cores, your core rebuilds the leftover bits of magic that I have consumed. When you cast the Spell though, the magical byproduct produced is then consumed by your core and the Spell you used is created again and stored in the storage chamber.)_

_(So you're saying that I don't have to worry about ever running out of Spells again?)_

_(Yes. The downside is: your core is not a complete Producer core. You can only produce Spells with the magical byproduct that has your magical signature on it.)_

_(Magical signature?) _Harry sighed. _(Man, your explanation makes my head ache.)_

_(This is probably why we've chosen not to tell our humans about this.)_

Harry seemed to perk up from this. _(Oh, don't be so sure, Q. Headmaster Cid might find someone who's interested and can use this information!)_

_(Well, if you could convince them, I don't see why not.)_

* * *

Harry, now nine and a half years old, was busy reading a book when he heard a knock at the door. Grabbing a bookmark, he slipped it on the page and closed the book. "Coming," he said as he scrambled off his bed, cursing at the books that were scattered everywhere. He fell to the floor and winced. Rolling, he moved to stand up and stumbled towards the door. 

"Hello, Harry," Simon greeted the boy brightly, "come on." Pulling Harry's hand, they ran towards the front of the Garden.

"Slow down, Simon," Harry said and tried to stop. "Where are we going?"

"I have to show you something," Simon said and tugged Harry's hand. "Let's just go."

"Alright," Harry said, "but this better be good."

"Oh it's good alright," Simon grinned. When they arrived at the front of the Garden, he moved his hand dramatically. "I present to you, Laguna."

"Laguna! Laguna!" A lion-like creature with red spiky hair said and ran towards them. "Laguna?"

Harry blinked. "Are you sure his name is Laguna?"

"What else could it be?"

Harry tilted his head, examining the Moomba in front of him. "The name doesn't really fit him."

"That's because his name is not Laguna."

"Oh, Headmaster! Are you here to say hello to Laguna as well?" Simon asked.

The headmaster scratched his head. "His name is not Laguna, Simon." Headmaster Cid said. "Moombas do not possess names."

Simon smiled. "Oh, I know sir. I just like calling him Laguna."

"Oh, right then. Whatever makes you happy, Simon."

"You brought me all the way here just to meet a Moomba?" Harry demanded.

"Actually, I asked Simon to bring you here, Harry."

"Oh," Harry smiled a bit. "Sorry about that."

"I have three things to discuss with you, Harry." Headmaster Cid motioned towards the elevator, saying, "Perhaps we can talk about it inside my office?"

Harry nodded and followed the headmaster. Simon, who was holding the Moomba's hand, trailed behind, pointing at the different school areas. "That's the canteen!" Harry heard Simon say. "Sometimes, we hold Triple Triad games there. I really want to try and have a go at that game but Donovan, that's our tutor, doesn't like giving out free time. Bummer? I know."

Harry smiled but did not join the one-sided conversation. He knew that Simon loved learning and was always enthusiastic in class. He and Simon were different that way; Simon wanted knowledge for knowledge's sake. He, on the other hand, _needed_ the knowledge, because knowledge gave him power. And power is what he needs to stop Voldemort.

Voldemort. Back home, he couldn't even utter that name. Now…_Well, Donovan did say that fear of the name only increases the fear itself. Besides, after Simon did that limerick… _Harry sniggered. "There once was a man named Voldie, who didn't want to get oldie, he tried various ways, to immortalize his face, and ended up lookin' moldy."

Simon had heard Harry and pouted. "I don't like that limerick!" The boy grumbled and shuddered. "It's too childish if you ask me."

"Got a better version?" Harry challenged.

Simon thought for a moment before shaking his head. "Sorry, I don't do rhymes anymore."

"Your skills as a limerick master must've degenerated over the years."

Simon glared at Harry and crossed his arms. "Oui sicd pa dryd puo hysat Rynno, fru druikrd dra tyng munt fyc clyno, ra fyc y lusbmada fesb, clynat ajah uv csymm crnesb—"

"Tuh'd yld mega E lyh'd ihtancdyht oui, Cesuh! Yvdan ymm, fa cditeat dra Yhleahdc' myhkiyka dukadran." Harry cut in.

"Now, now, boys," Headmaster Cid said, laughing nervously. "No need to fight."

Harry glared at Simon and folded his arms, looking away. "Whatever."

Sighing, Headmaster Cid spoke. "There is much to discuss, Harry; please, continue your fight else where."

"I understand," Harry sat on one of the chairs, pointedly ignoring Simon who was complaining to the Moomba. "What was it you wish to talk to me again?"

Headmaster Cid sat down and said, "Dr. Windspeed, having heard of your _special _magical core, wants a part of it. This isn't mandatory though, so you needn't worry."

Harry screwed his face in concentration. "I've read about cores a bit," Harry admitted. Slowly, he said, "As long as Dr. Windspeed doesn't try to turn that bit of mine into a magical beast intent to feast on my body or—"

"I agree that you'll become vulnerable," they heard a voice from behind say. "But I assure you that I will not, in anyway, use my knowledge to harm others. I am simply a curious creature who wishes to understand the mysteries of your core."

Harry twisted his body to get a better look at the speaker. Standing just behind the Moomba was a thin gangly man in his late thirties. The man had an angular face and a pair of hooded eyes. Tufts of hair covered either side of his head, leaving the top completely bald. He smiled at Harry. "You must be Harry."

"Yes, he is." Simon said, moving to stand from his crouched position. "And you are?"

"Gregory Windspeed," the man said and offered Simon his hand. "Nice to meet you, Simon."

Simon broke into a grin. "Nice to meet you too, sir," Simon said, shaking the man's hand. "I've read a lot of your books. They're really good, sir. How did you know my name, sir? I know! You must be a psychic. I haven't read anything about psychics though, so I'm not sure—"

"Headmaster Cid told me about you," Dr. Windspeed gave the boy a smile. "You've read my books about core manipulation and magical aesthesia?" When the boy nodded and beamed, he broke into a grin. "It's nice to know that I have fans, even little ones like yourself."

"Dr. Windspeed?"

He looked at Harry. "Yes, my boy?"

"Do I have to give you my core?" Harry asked, his brows furrowing. "Can't you just examine it?"

Dr. Windspeed sighed. "First of all, I am _not_ asking you to give me your whole magical core; I just want a piece of it. Secondly, I _need_ to conduct experiments on it, which means that there's a chance I might accidentally hurt or injure you. Do you want me to make you magically disabled?"

Harry shook his head. "Well, no sir. But I've also read, in your book if you must know, that it _is_ possible for even a small fraction of the core to influence the original one—"

"Ah! But I _know_ of a method to completely separate a piece from your magical essence or core." Dr. Windspeed countered. "Of course, you haven't read about it yet, because as it so happens, I haven't published it yet."

Harry sighed. "I'll only agree," he said, looking at Dr.Windspeed squarely, "_if_ you give me something of equal worth."

"A smart choice," the man nodded, stroking his cropped beard. "What do you want? A piece of my magical essence?"

Harry shook his head. "A vial of your blood will do."

The man frowned. "Are you sure? I don't think my blood will be of any use to you—"

Harry shrugged. "My magic might clash with yours or I might absorb it. Q says I can only create Spells using magical byproducts that have_ my_ magical signature. It reacts differently to raw magic though." His shoulders drooped as he remembered what had happened to him that fateful October night. "My core really is a mystery."

"Headmaster Cid was kind enough to give me sleeping quarters and a workable lab here in Balamb Garden. If you feel that you are ready to give me what I need, you can find me at the basement area." Dr. Windspeed said curtly.

"Alright," Harry said and watched Dr. Windspeed leave. Turning to Headmaster Cid, he asked, "What were the two other things you wanted to talk about?"

* * *

Harry groaned and dragged himself on top of his bed. Curling into a tiny ball, he tried to ignore the headache that had plagued him all day. 

Besides the usual training schedule, Harry had to go with Simon and Donovan to a menagerie to _talk_ to some snakes. Can you believe it? He had to talk to a bunch of snakes because of some insane theory of Dr. Windspeed who had gotten wind of his little adventure with the Anacondaurs. Worst of all, Dr. Windspeed's insane theory was actually true.

Harry rubbed his scar and closed his eyes. After the discovery, they went back to the Garden. There, Harry had gone to the training center to have a little bonding time with Squall Leonhart, one of the headmaster's favorite students.

The young man, it seemed, was a bit antisocial and Headmaster Cid had hoped that with Harry's help, he would learn to open up a bit. Harry had tried to argue but the headmaster would not be moved by his decision.

When Harry had first landed his eyes in Squall's direction, he had been surprised to note that they had both looked eerily alike. If it were not for Harry's glasses or his cropped hair, he'd look like an older version of Squall.

The young SeeD trainee noticed the similarities as well because he had taken a step back and had tried to run away. Thankfully, Harry was nimble on his feet and easily caught up with the boy.

After a brief introduction, and a reassurance that Harry was in no way related to Squall, they had spent the rest of the afternoon fighting side-by-side inside the large training center. Twice they had encountered a T-Rex, one of the training center's newest additions, and twice they had to run away.

He didn't know if he _had_ helped Squall; most of their time together was spent in silence as they fought off monster after monster in the center. The young man _did_ smile at him before walking away, so perhaps the afternoon was not spent in vain.

His hand drifted downwards to rub the part behind his ears. _(Hey, Q, do you think my body would stop aching if I used a Cure Spell?)_

His silent Guardian Force stirred from within his mind. _(I don't think it would be advisable, Harry. Your body is hurting because it is physically tired. If you try to use a Cure Spell, I'm afraid it would only pain you more.)_

_(Oh.) _Harry sighed and pulled his pillow on top of his head.

_(Dr. Windspeed has also extracted a part of your magical essence. Right now, your magic is busy rebuilding what you have lost. Even if you were to try, the success rate of casting a Spell is probably close to none.)_

_(Speaking of Dr. Windspeed…)_ Harry dug into one of his pockets and took out the vial of blood he had asked from Dr. Windspeed. He moved to place it on top of his desk before dumping his body back into bed.

_(Why did you ask for the man's blood, Harry?) _The GF inquired curiously. _(I don't think your magic is the real reason.)_

_(What would I do with the doctor's magic?) _Harry asked. _(I do not possess his extensive equipment, or the desire to study magical cores.)_ Harry burrowed closer to his pillow, wishing that sleep would take him soon. _(Besides, I've heard about blood magic when I was younger. If he does try to attack me, I might be able to use his blood as my defense.)_

_(What if he tries to attack you before you get a chance to study this blood magic of yours?)_

_(Then let's just hope he doesn't.)_

* * *

Touching the Dimension Ball one last time, the Watcher of the Gates, Guardian of the Verses, strode towards his quarters. There, he moved for the mirror. 

Staring back at him was the face of Dr. Gregory Windspeed. The Watcher touched his face and calmly watched as it shifted and changed until another face looked back; a much younger face, pale because he had not been under the sun for years. Hearing a crash in his living room, the Watcher donned on a cloak and pulled the hood up.

"Terribly sorry, Merritt," Mr. Elden, the Watcher's superior, said when he saw the Watcher enter the room. "I'm afraid my hands are not what they used to be."

The Watcher scanned the room and saw the broken pieces of a vase that had been given to him as a gift. He sighed, "It's alright, Mr. Elden. It can be replaced."

The old man nodded and sat on his chair nervously. "Are you well, my boy?"

"Yes," the Watcher said and sat primly near Mr. Elden. "What brings you here, old man?"

"I wish to inquire on the progress of the boy. Your…dimension traveler."

"Mr. Potter? He is doing well in his studies. I believe that staying there has given him the discipline and determination that his own guardians in his Home world cannot provide."

Mr. Elden smiled. "That is good to hear."

"Mr. Elden?"

"Yes, Merritt?" Mr. Elden asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

"Why did the two Dimension balls converge?" The Watcher asked. "I mean, you told me it happens when someone Dimension travels. The problem is: it didn't happen when Simon, Harry's friend and a fellow traveler, arrived there."

"Oh," Mr. Elden scratched his head and sighed. "I'm sorry, my boy. I forgot to tell you about that." Looking at the Watcher closely, he said, "It only happens when certain key figures from a world Dimension travels to another one. The world, you see, cannot exist without its key figures. This is probably why the two Dimension balls converged."

"So you're telling me that Harry's a key figure?" The Watcher asked.

"Yes, my boy," Mr. Elden nodded. "This is why I had asked you to keep a close eye on the boy and provide him transportation when the time comes for him to travel back to his Home Dimension."

"Thank you for the information, Mr. Elden," the Watcher said. "Is there anything else—?"

"No, Merritt; I have nothing more to discuss with you," Mr. Elden said and was already by the door when the Watcher stopped him.

"Wait!"

The old man closed his hand over the handle. "Yes, my boy?"

"I have a favor to ask of you."

Mr. Elden turned to look at his former student. "Ask away, my boy."

* * *

A/N: Translations: 

(1) "Oui sicd pa dryd puo hysat Rynno, fru druikrd dra tyng munt fyc clyno, ra fyc y lusbmada fesb, clynat ajah uv csymm crnesb—" -- "You must be that boy named Harry, who thought the dark lord was scary, he was a complete wimp, scared even of small shrimp—"

(2) "Tuh'd yld mega E lyh'd ihtancdyht oui, Cesuh! Yvdan ymm, fa cditeat dra Yhleahdc' myhkiyka dukadran." -- "Don't act like I can't understand you, Simon! After all, we studied the Ancients' language together."

These are actually Al Bhed translations. Why do I have 'em in a FF8 fic? Won't worry; you'll find out soon enough.

Note 2: Updates will be slow because of school and because I'm trying to write both Legacy and Jutsu Creation at the same time.

Note 3: If you have any questions regarding Harry's core or the mystery of Dr. Windspeed please leave a review. Chances are, I can probably answer it.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Pain shot through his torso. He bit his tongue to keep himself from shouting in pain. Dodging a claw, he slammed against a boulder that was in the way. A burst of power surged from inside him, making him grin. It was time to do _that_.

Dragging himself to his feet, he spat the blood that had collected in his mouth and moved into a fighting position. Disappearing, he appeared behind the great Guardian Force, his katana sheathed. Ifrit roared and fell to his knees as seven diagonal slashes appeared on either side of his large body.

The boy raised his left hand. Ice shards, thicker than beanpoles, formed in front of him. They flew towards the great beast.

The Guardian Force slashed at the shards, breaking them, and growled. "Enough! You have already proven yourself worthy of my power, brat. Killing me would be unnecessary; it would take days for my corporeal body to recover."

Harry smiled sheepishly and moved his hand further upwards to touch Ifrit's forehead. The Guardian Force bowed and disappeared in a burst of lights which fluttered around Harry before sinking into his body.

_(It's been a while…Ifrit.)_

_(It's nice to see you too, Quez.)_

Harry listened to his Guardians talk—Quezacotl was going to give Ifrit a tour—before walking towards Donovan and offering the man a hand. "How long did it take?"

"Four minutes and fifteen seconds," Donovan, his instructor, said. "Not bad for a youngster; the execution of your limit break was top-notch."

"That's good to know." Harry said and grinned at his instructor. "I didn't want to get past the five minute mark."

"Why?" The man asked, dusting the dirt from his pants.

"Simon and I had a bet," Harry said offhandedly. "Where is he anyway?"

"He's in Galbadia Garden." Donovan answered. "Dr. Windspeed accompanied him there for the prerequisite exam as a support. Since he already has Ifrit as a Guardian Force, the Headmaster decided it would be best if he underwent a different test."

"Oh." Harry yawned as he followed his teacher towards the mouth of the cave. It was no surprise that Ifrit was a widely used Guardian Force. After all, he was one of the few that could be acquired at a low level. Since he was one of the oldest Guardian Forces, many people were junctioned to him. He was a very powerful GF, once upon a time, but his strength had been divided into his summoners, weakening him. Now, it was up to the people who carried part of him to strengthen him through experience in battle.

"Hey, Donovan," Harry called to his instructor.

Donovan who was a few steps ahead looked back. "What is it, Harry?"

"Is it possible to communicate to others through Guardian Forces?" Harry asked, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I don't know, Harry." Donovan admitted. "How did you come by this conclusion anyway?"

"Remember that lecture on Guardian Forces?" Harry asked.

"The power of a Guardian Force is divided by the number of people junctioned to it," Donovan quoted. Frowning, he said, "What does this have to do with communication?"

"Well, um…" Harry paused to organize his thoughts before continuing. "A bearer of a Guardian Force, or a summoner as we like to it, carries a physical manifestation of the GF. This means that communication between the summoner and the GF is possible, right? So, is it possible that this physical manifestation can communicate with its other parts?"

Donovan grunted and rubbed his head. "What you mean to say is: I can talk to someone else by conveying the message through a Guardian Force shared by two or more people. Is that it?"

Harry nodded. "Exactly!"

The man sighed. "I'm afraid I don't know if it's possible. Perhaps you should ask one of your Guardians?"

* * *

Simon stretched and leaned against the hallway. Grumbling at his absentmindedness—he had forgotten to bring a book—Simon contented himself in watching the scenery. 

_(Simon, I have a message for you.) _

Simon closed his eyes. _(What is it, Ifrit?)_

_(Harry says to tell you that he has passed the prerequisite exam.)_

Simon almost fell to the floor in surprise. _(How?)_

_(It seems that your friend has found a new means of communication.) _The Guardian Force sounded annoyed. _(Through us GFs, it seems. Honestly, what does he think we are?) _Ifrit grumbled. _(We are the mighty GFs, once feared by all men who walk this earth. Now we are simply tools of destruction and communication. How…absurd.)_

Simon struggled into a sitting position. _(Umm…can you ask him a question for me?)_

The beast sighed. _(I might as well.)_

_(Ask him how this new form of communication works. Also, please tell him that I have finished my exam as well and am heading home.)_

_(Whatever, Boss.)_

Simon scooted to the side to avoid passengers who walked back and forth in the large hallway of the train. There, he wrapped his arms around his legs and began reviewing his notes as a way of passing the time.

"A Chimera is a monster hybrid with four heads that use magic, physical attacks and Status changes. Their principle skill is Aqua Breath which—" He paused and frowned. "What did Aqua Breath do again?" He didn't have time to ponder because Ifrit had returned.

_(That brat tells me that communication is only possible through two or more people who share a common GF. Further details will be provided later because I can't memorize the information he wishes to convey.)_

"Sounds like Greatest Common Factor to me," Simon said pensively, referring to a math reference he had studied years ago.

Ifrit ignored him. _(He also told me to tell you that you owe him fifty gil.)_

* * *

"Here you go, child," Mr. Elden said, handing the Watcher a wooden box the size of his fist. "I hope it serves its purpose well." 

The Watcher slipped the box inside his pocket. Giving the older man a small thin smile, he said, "Oh it will."

Turning around, he was about to leave the small house with its haphazardly arranged roof tiles, concrete walls and cardboard doors when he heard a crash from inside.

Forgetting his current task, the Watcher ran back inside and found Mr. Elden standing over a broken mirror. He blinked.

"Oh, Merritt! Did I startle you?" The man asked as he tried to retrieve the broken pieces.

The Watcher opened his mouth to reply but could think of no answer. He closed his mouth and shook his head.

The man sighed. "I was trying to look at young Harry's progress."

The Watcher crouched and placed his hand over the broken fragments. They quivered and slowly reconnected. He looked up at his former teacher. The man squeaked and placed the last piece on the floor.

"Show me Harry James Potter," he commanded.

* * *

Harry stepped out of the mirror and surveyed his surroundings with a critical eye, taking in the old room he had stumbled into years ago. The map he had so expertly drawn when he was a kid was long gone—probably thrown in the bin. Adjusting his grip on the rucksack he carried, he walked for the door. 

It was surprisingly easy enough for him to arrive at his room without meeting anyone. He was glad for that although he couldn't help but wonder just where his brother and caretaker were. He stepped inside his room and quickly removed all of his things from his rucksack, methodically hiding them in different nooks and crannies, places he had found during his explorations around the house when he was much younger. The last object that came out of his bag was the box Dr. Windspeed had given him. Inside was a black leather cord with a single emerald stone of diminutive size. He hesitated before slipping it onto his right arm. Glad for his long-sleeved shirt, he pulled the cloth over the black band and took a deep breath. It was time to get the show started.

_(Ifrit, Q, I need the two of you to stay in Balamb Garden.)_ Harry commanded.

_(Why?)_It was Ifrit.

_(Is there something wrong, sir?)_

_(Just a gut feeling.) _Harry explained. _(I don't want anyone to find out about the two of you and well, I've always felt that Balamb was much safer than my own home.)_

_(Alright.)_Harry watched as the two retreated towards the Balamb area of his mind. He heard a whisper of a good luck at his direction and couldn't help but smile.

_(Thanks.)_

About to leave, something caught his eye, and for a moment he simply stared as if trying to figure out why the old worn-out bear was there. It was Maverick's; that much he remembered. So why?

The living room was still the same as ever, expect the floor was a bit dustier and the wall had more framed photos than it had before. Harry carefully positioned himself on top of the carpet—he didn't want to get a head injury—and concentrated. Feeling the energy swell within him, he muttered the word that would release his spell. "Sleep."

* * *

"Is he alright, dear?" Harry's eyes snapped open. He moved to a sitting position and looked around. Ms. Banderwell stood on his left. She still had the same old weathered face and her salt and pepper hair was tied in a bun as it usually was. She looked like she had gained some weight though and her neck carried more jewelry than Harry could remember. On Harry's right was Maverick, taller and thinner. He had the built of a would-be Chaser which was ideal since the boy had always dreamt of playing Quidditch just like their father did. Harry was surprised to note that Mav's eyes carried an air of seriousness. He hadn't thought that his brother would grow up like this. 

"What happened?" He finally managed to blurt out. "Where am I, Mav?"

"Oh dear," Ms. Banderwell said, sighing. "I'll have to contact Albus. Maverick, please watch over your brother, will you?"

Maverick nodded and helped Harry up. "You know, the least you could do was faint on the couch."

Harry made a face. _Ok, so he's still the trying hard comedian we all know and love._ "I'll remember that next time." _And here I was, hoping that he had actually matured._

"Still sarcastic as ever?" Maverick asked, a small smile on his face. "It's been so long since I've seen you, Brother. For a long time, I felt like a part of me was missing. Maybe it was because a part of me was missing you."

Harry was shocked at Maverick's sincerity. _Well, that explains the bear._ He thought, avoiding those hazel eyes. "You've changed."

"And so have you." Maverick said. "You're smaller than me and you've got the build of a Beater. Thinking of joining the team?" He teased.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Still a fanatic of Quidditch?"

"Not much has changed, huh?"

Harry was about to disagree—Maverick _had_ changed, in Harry's eyes anyway—when he felt a great power source around him. Turning his head, he saw an old man with an overflowing robe filled with stars and a pair of twinkling eyes behind half-moon glasses. His magic tingled with a sense of urgency, as if telling him to watch out for this man.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore," the man said, introducing himself. "Ruth here has told me of your alarming situation. Tell me, Harry; is it true that you have lost your memory?"

_Ruth? Did he mean Ms. Banderwell? _ Harry nodded. "Only some though," he spoke. "I still remember my brother and Ms. Banderwell."

Dumbledore stared at him as if deciding what to do. At last, the man said, "There is something I am about to do, Harry." His words were measured and chosen carefully. "I might be able to do something to help you but first, you have to agree to my doing this."

"Doing what, sir?"

"You're not thinking of entering his mind, Albus?" Ms. Banderwell asked, startled. "He is a minority after all and surely you would find nothing there!"

"If someone obliviated him, I should still find traces of the spell on him using Legilimency. I can then contact my Potions master and ask him to create a potion that can restore his memories." Dumbledore explained. "Please trust me, Ruth. I know what's best for the child."

Harry frowned. "Can I at least have a say on this?"

"Well, go on," Ms. Banderwell said. "We haven't got all day, boy."

"What if, the reason why I can't remember anything was because my mind doesn't want me to?" Harry ventured. "What if something bad happened and I've unconsciously pushed the memories away?"

"You mean, you don't want to remember because it's too painful or something?" Maverick asked.

"Exactly."

"The boy's got a point, Albus." Ms. Banderwell said. "Besides, the Ministry would throw a fit if they found out that you've attempted to do such a thing as to use Legilimency on a child." Ms. Banderwell, it seemed, was willing to argue with this authoritative man if it meant staying on the Ministry's good side.

Dumbledore nodded. "Very well." He gave Harry one last look before turning to Ms. Banderwell. "I'll consult my books and see if I can find a way to help him. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some business to attend to." Handing Ms. Banderwell a letter, he continued. "This is Harry's school letter. I hope to see these two come September. Good bye, Ruth."

Harry felt himself relax as the man's commanding presence disappeared. If the man did indeed try to enter his mind, he might have discovered Q and Ifrit. Although the two were hidden, Harry had a feeling that the man could easily find them. He didn't want to know what would happen next and thanked Ms. Banderwell silently for defending him. Adding Legilimency to the list of things he had to research, he looked at Maverick questioningly. "Do you think you have any clothes my size?"

* * *

Mr. Elden placed his hand over the mirror, dispelling the magic on it. He looked at his old pupil curiously. "Do you still have trouble controlling your power, Merritt?" 

"What do you mean?"

"Because you used too much again; instead of showing the present situation, we're watching the future," Mr. Elden reasoned. "It happens quite frequently, you know."

The Watcher blinked. "Oh, I can actually explain that. I already knew what was going to happen so I decided to move the time a bit forward."

"Could you at least have me watch the boy in action?" The old man grumbled. "I _am_ curious about his progress."

The Watcher laughed. "Well then," he placed the mirror on the wall and tapped it. Harry's image reappeared, "you'll just have to wait."

* * *

A/N: Yes, I'm sorry to disappoint you but there are no fight scenes in this chapter (except the brief one on top). I don't really remember Final Fantasy 8 so I couldn't think of any kind of mission I could give to Harry. It might get mentioned later on but I won't go into detail because of it. 

Also, the chapter is shorter than usual. Terribly sorry about that. I will try to write longer next time. (Hopefully, updates will be faster as well since I'm not writing that other fic for a while.)


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Harry trailed after Ms. Banderwell and Maverick, his eyes still wide with surprise. Having just had his first bus ride from the Knight Bus—he had never left the house when he was much younger—he couldn't help but feel disoriented with idea of an extremely fast vehicle that could change size to avoid the traffic and even fly. He was instructed to go to Gringotts and hand the goblin in charge a written permission for him to access his vault; Ms. Banderwell and Maverick had matters to attend to—it was the twins' birthday after all and everyone wanted to meet the famed celebrity—and could not join Harry in buying his school materials. He had been handed a pamphlet of Daigon Alley as well as the list of things he had to buy.

Ms. Banderwell tapped the brick wall and nodded at Harry. "I know you've just reappeared in our lives, Harry, and that I've never actually brought you outside the Potter Mansion for you to experience the Wizarding world before but I'm sure I can trust you enough to be in your best behavior and to be here inside the Leaky Cauldron by five. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said timidly. Another thing he was surprised about was Ms. Banderwell's change of feelings towards him. Before, the woman had always been ignorant of the boy and had only acknowledged him long enough to ask him to do some chores. "I'll be back by five." He promised.

When the two scurried away, Harry felt his shoulders drop from the tension. They were a lot nicer, yes, but he still couldn't help but bring his guard up. Unfolding the map, he headed for the Gringotts building. It was in the centre of the shopping district, an ideal place for a bank, and was large and made of marble the color of snow, making Harry squint from the light reflecting off of it.

Quickly, he found a goblin willing to help and was directed to Rockgaze who was in charge of vaults created to hold the trust fund of a child. The goblin read his note in silence. "The note seems authentic enough," the goblin voiced out loud. "It says here that you can withdraw a maximum amount of a hundred galleons. Would you like to visit your vault now to withdraw?"

Harry shook his head. "If it's possible, can I just have the money stored in a pouch and brought here?" He asked. "I'm not really fond of tunnels," he admitted, remembering an exercise Donovan had them do concerning a worm type of fiend and a maze of tunnels with no way out.

The goblin seemed to sense his anxiety and had agreed. "How much would you like to withdraw, Harry?"

"The maximum amount stated," The boy answered. "I have clothes to buy as well as school supplies and considering the fact that I have no experience in shopping, I want to be as much prepared as possible."

"Alright," Rockgaze said. "If you wish, we could store your money in a moke-skinned pouch as it is more secure than an ordinary one. The moke-skinned pouch is often used by people who carry large sums of money. This is because of its ability to hold a huge amount of space. It also has the ability to shrink in size when a stranger approaches, thus making it virtually impossible for the would-be thief to find your pouch."

Harry blinked, taking time to swallow the whole information down. Finally, he gave a curt nod and spoke, "Well, if it's not too expensive, then I would like to buy one."

Rockgaze smiled thinly. "A couple of years ago, the cost of this moke-skinned bag would amount to at least a hundred and fifty galleons. Because of a Muggleborn inventor, a new type of pouch has been created. This pouch is made of synthetic fiber but still functions the same way as the pouch I am talking about and only costs ten galleons. Imagine how large a difference that is."

Harry couldn't help but gape. "And do we have a name for this Muggleborn inventor?"

"Yes, we do, but I'll let you find out for yourself."

Harry pouted and sighed. "Ok, I'll be taking one of those pouches now as well as my ninety galleons." He said dejectedly. "But if it's defective, I want my money back."

"Of course, of course," Rockgaze said and disappeared behind a large door. After a couple of minutes of waiting, Harry grew bored and was about to open the door when Rockgaze appeared right besides him. He almost jumped out of his shoes.

"How did you do that?" Harry asked curiously.

"Sorry, boy, but that's a secret reserved for Gringotts employees." Rockgaze said and gave Harry a silver-green pouch which looked like it was made of lizard scales. "These aren't real, just so you know. Our inventor friend decided to duplicate not only the pouch's functions but also the pouch's appearance." Rockgaze explained. "Have a good day now and don't get lost."

Harry bowed his head in respect and said, "Oh I will."

His first destination was Timbletop's Trunks which sold trunks of varying sizes. They also sold a selection of bags for traveling. Harry needed both and stepped inside the establishment.

"Why can't I buy an Auror's trunk, Father?" A boy of about Harry's age asked. He was taller than even Maverick with light brown hair cut short and eyes the color of storm clouds.

"That's because you don't need one, Theo," the man who shared the boy's eyes said, a slight scowl on his face.

"Excuse me," Harry spoke politely. "I'm not familiar with trunks so I don't know which kind I should buy. Could you please help me?"

"Well, usually when confronted with such a request, I would point you to the direction of an employee of this store but the only employee I can find is busy conversing with another costumer so I guess that's a yes," the man said promptly.

Theodore laughed and elbowed his father. "Don't be so mean, Dad. You're using your long words again and nobody understands that."

Harry wanted to say that, yes; actually he _did_ understand the man but decided against it.

"Fine," the man said and offered Harry his hand. "My name is Zachary Nott and this is Theodore Nott, my son, although he prefers to be called Theo."

Harry shook hands with Mr. Nott and replied, "My name is Harry Potter, Harry to my friends. And yes, I'm related to the great Boy-Who-Lived although I wish we weren't."

Father and son exchanged looks. Theodore grabbed Harry's hand and shook it as well, saying, "Don't really care if you're the son of the Minister or some famous singer's nephew." Theodore said. "Nice to meet you, Harry."

"Now then, you said you wanted some advice on trunks?" Mr. Nott asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly. "Are you attending Hogwarts this year, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, and I would like it if you could call me Harry as well, sir," Harry said. He knew wizards were a lot more traditional when it came to names; it was usual for acquaintances to greet each other using their last names since first-name basis was reserved for friends but Harry was used to the ways of his other world where last names were usually followed by insults.

Mr. Nott brought the two children in front of a display of trunks created for travelers. "The trunks they usually sell to students are the ordinary kind with only simple security charms and whatnot. Now, what I'm showing you is a bit more expensive but well worth it. It has the same structure as that of a normal trunk except that it has charms which give the inside additional space like that moke pouch you have on your hip. Nice choice by the way, Harry."

Harry smiled at the compliment. "Thank you, sir."

"The security and protective charms of this trunk—both from the physical kind and the thief kind—are also more advanced so you won't have to worry so much unless you're dealing with a professional robber. If you look at this symbol here, you will see a small circle. You can tap your wand twice on the inside of this circle to shrink it and tap thrice to put it back to its normal size."

The employee Mr. Nott had pointed out earlier cleared his throat and said, "Are you planning to work here, sir? I could use a man of your knowledge and charisma."

"I'm sorry about that, Mr. Timbletop." Mr. Nott said apologetically. "My expertise lies elsewhere, I'm afraid."

Mr. Timbletop examined the man carefully and nodded in understanding. "A blacksmith, I should have known." Looking at the two boys, he asked, "Will they be buying this type of trunks or would they like to examine the rest of my collection?"

"I think I'll take this one," Harry said. "I would also like to buy a bag I could use for school."

The big-bellied man showed Harry a catalogue of bags and helped the two boys pick a trunk each. After all the decisions had been made and things had been purchased, Mr. Nott and the two boys stepped out of the store. "Would you like to join us, Harry? A young boy such as yourself shouldn't be walking on these streets alone."

"Sorry, sir. My guardian had to go somewhere so I had to shop on my own. I would be delighted if you allowed me to join you."

They headed next to the cauldron shop where they bought a set of equipment for the boys' Potions class. Theodore wanted a collapsible cauldron but was persuaded out of buying one. Harry himself was eyeing a golden cauldron and wondering just how much one would cost. After a quick explanation from Mr. Nott on how the different types of cauldrons affected certain properties on potions, Harry gave the cauldron a last wistful look before following the Notts to a stationary store to buy parchment and a writing kit complete with a small wooden box to carry the ink and quills.

The Quality Quidditch Supplies next door was ignored as the Notts didn't seem to be fans of the game and Harry—although he loved to flying—knew that first years weren't allowed their own broomsticks.

Madam Malkin's was next in the list and they arrived there without much distractions—there was a rather raucous debate near one of the stores on the price of dragon boots but Mr. Nott had managed to drag them quickly to the other side before they got swamped by the onlookers. Inside, Harry and Theodore were fitted for school robes. Harry had taken a bit longer because he had to buy some other kind of robes as well, explaining that someone had accidentally used a permanent shrinking spell on his closet of clothes and he needed new ones. The young woman who was fitting him eyed him suspiciously but quickly shrugged it off; there were still customers to attend to and she didn't have time to speculate on the mysteries of shrunken wardrobe.

Once Harry had gotten off the stool and received the parcels of robes he had bought, he meticulously placed his things inside his trunk, already mapping out which things would go where. They then walked to Ollivander's shop past the Gringotts bank. There, Mr. Nott shoved them inside, saying that there were places he had to go.

"Welcome."

Harry resisted the urge to cast a Fire spell at the source of the voice. Why did people keep trying to surprise him anyway? Didn't they know that he was trained to attack at even the slight mention of the word surprise? Well, ok, they didn't but the next one to try scaring poor Harry would receive a Thundaga Spell from the much rattled boy. "Who's there?"

"My name is Ollivander and I am the wandmaker of this store." Peering casually at the two frightened boys, Mr. Ollivander made a small note on the floating pad of paper besides him. "A Nott and a Potter; you don't usually see such a pair together but I guess times are moving faster than I thought."

"We're here for our wands," Harry said, struggling to keep his face from showing any emotions.

"Of course, boy," Mr. Ollivander said, sniffing. "What else would you be here for? So who wants to go first?"

Theodore raised his hand; his face now sporting an eager expression. "I want to go first!"

Mr. Ollivander grinned, sharp yellow teeth showing. "Very good, Mr. Nott. Heartstring of an iron golem, oak, thirteen inches, very rare and good for Rune work. That's your father's wand, am I correct?"

"Ye-yes sir," Theodore said astonished by the man's accurate description.

"Now which is your wand hand, boy?"

"My left, sir."

A roll of measuring tape swerved around Theodore's head and began taking measurements of the boy's arm. Besides Mr. Ollivander, a quill was scrawling something down. Harry wanted to take a peek but decided not to. He didn't really want to interfere.

The old man went to the back of his shop and started giving Theodore wands to wave. It was after the twenty-seventh wave that Theodore had found his wand. "Aah! Rowan, ten and a half inches with the fang of a Peruvian Vipertooth as a core. It seems your family has once again received a rare wand, Mr. Nott. I believe your mother had the rarest one yet. Her wand is still intact, my boy?"

Theodore gulped. "Well, sir, it's still whole…if you know what I mean."

"Oh dear," the man sighed. "Can you ask her to bring it here, Mr. Nott? I would like to take a close inspection of it, in case there's something wrong."

"Why, sir?" Harry said who couldn't help but ask. "Is Mrs. Nott clumsy or something?"

"Mum isn't really that clumsy. Her work is just very dangerous, is all." Theodore said and shrugged.

"Oh," Harry frowned. He wanted to know just what kind of work Theodore's mother had but decided to ask another day since the boy didn't seem willing to share just yet.

Mr. Ollivander went to the same procedures with Harry, first asking him which arm was his wand arm. Harry had replied honestly; he could use both without much difficulty but preferred his right over his left. It took Mr. Ollivander even more time to find Harry the right wand. His arm was beginning to ache and he wanted to try using his left arm to swish the bloody thing when the wand Mr. Ollivander had handed him next finally responded, filling the room with a warm glow as sparks of different colors flashed from his wand. "Alder, eleven inches with a Nundu's whiskers for a core. Such an interesting pair of customers I have here," Mr. Ollivander said, seemingly delighted. He accepted the payment for the wands and shooed the two boys out of his shop.

Outside, Mr. Nott was waiting with two cages by his side. "Finally!" The man said and beamed. "I thought Mr. Ollivander had abducted the two of you."

"Dad? What are those for?" Theodore asked after receiving a hug from his father.

"This is my going away present for you," Mr. Nott said. "You get one as well, Harry."

"But why?" Harry blushed at his outburst. "We've just met, sir…"

"It's true, but I've never met a boy as polite as you, Harry." Mr. Nott tousled Harry's hair and pushed the cage into his arms. "Besides, this is to celebrate your birthday, eh?"

"Ho-how did you know?"

"Well, obviously, you're related to the Boy-Who-Lived and everyone knows that that kid's birthday is today. I just put two and two together."

"Oh." Harry looked down at the cage to see a small black kitten staring back at him. "Does it have a name?"

"The store owner says his name's Thunder."

"What about my owl, Dad? What's her name?"

"The man didn't say."

"Really? Then that means I get to name her!" Theodore grinned at Harry. "What do you think? Any suggestions?"

Harry glanced at the tawny-browed owl and looked thoughtful. "Moonclaw? Buckbeak? Tidalclash?" He said, listing several names that came to his mind. "Floppy? Snoozles? Beaky?"

"I'll think I'll just go with the first one," Theodore said, scratching his head, the other hand on top of the cage's handle. "Moonclaw, you say?"

"Since that's decided, let's go to Flourish and Blotts next." They moved to the front of the store and entered it. There were still some customers about, but it wasn't that large a crowd. Harry grabbed a basket and began filling it with books from his list. When he was done, he looked through the books again, taking books that met his eyes' interest. He knew there was a library somewhere in the Potter Mansion so he had to debate on whether or not he actually needed the books. In the end, he carried with him five books that weren't part of the list. Mr. Nott nodded approvingly at the books he carried but said nothing of the last book on Harry's pile which was about Occlumency and Legilimency.

With everything checked off the list, Harry bade the Notts good-bye, promising to write to them if he had the time. He then made a short trip to the bank to get some galleons converted into Muggle currency. Remembering that he had to buy some potion ingredients—Mr. Nott and Theodore must have gone there already—he went to the Apothecary. The smell had made his eyes water which was why he didn't choose to linger inside the store once the parcel of ingredients he had bought was thrust in his direction.

The rest of the afternoon was spent on the cloth shops outside the Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

A/n: Sorry if it moved a wee bit too fast. I guess I just didn't want to stay too much on this chapter. Thanks for all the reviews, by the way! Questions and comments are always welcome. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

The rest summer passed by with Harry either in his room or in the library, reading. His brother, Maverick, would occasionally join him, but the boy was mostly outside, flying on a broomstick. Ms. Banderwell, on the other hand, was always inside the garden, tending to her plants. By the time summer had ended, Harry was very nervous.

His research on Legilimency and Occlumency led him to believe that he had natural Occlumency shields. The Potter Mansion and Balamb Garden which formed his mind was actually a visual manifestation of these shields with an inner and outer layer to protect him from amateur practitioners of the art of Legilimency. Of course, people like the great Albus Dumbledore, would have little problem discovering all of Harry's secrets which was why Harry spent his summer training his mind. He knew that it would take years for someone like him to fend off Dumbledore's power but with some help from his two Guardians, he managed to create several fake memories as well as traps that would force the invader out of his mind.

He also trained his body, although he limited this to simply running around the Potter Mansion and practicing his skills with the katana on a spare room. He often did this at night so as not to attract attention from his brother or caretaker. In addition to his training regime, he meditated inside his room to strengthen his magical core and fortify the control he had. If he became stronger, magic-wise, he could Draw new spells from the small emerald on his wrist. The gift Dr. Windspeed had given him truly was useful, and he regretted asking for the older man's blood which was now safely hidden inside his trunk.

Two Aurors had arrived in their house on the day of their departure. These two were from the Minister of Magic who meant well though Harry had a feeling it was all for show. He'd seen glimpses of the man inside their living room and deduced that the man was simply being nice so as to have Maverick on his side in the future. Obviously, he didn't trust the man.

Arriving at King's Cross Station early, Ms. Banderwell took her time in saying good-bye to the twins. Harry was, yet again, astonished by the old woman's affection. He stopped himself from trying out some basic Legilimency on her, reasoning that he was still no pro and that he should at least give her some privacy. Besides, he couldn't think of anything that would possibly be harmful about the woman's actions.

With the trunk tucked inside his jean pocket and his Guardians alert of any possible intruders, he made his way to an empty compartment, heedless of the students around him. Maverick had spotted some of his friends—one of which was a tall redhead—and left Harry's side once they entered Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. He didn't mind, nor did he want to follow his brother, but it was still painful to think that he wasn't even prompted by his brother to join them.

Using the opportunity of an empty compartment, Harry cast the spell Silence around the room before settling in a comfortable position. He took out the book he carried in his school bag. It was on Transfiguration which puzzled Harry since he encountered no such kind of magic during his stay at Balamb Garden. Harry pushed away the memories that surfaced from the mention of that name. He did miss it but was often too busy to actually think of his friends there. Even with the discovery of communication through Guardians, Harry was disappointed to discover that this communication was limited to one world. Sometimes, he could still hear Simon's teasing voice on his mind or Dr. Kadowaki's gentle tone after a healing session.

He shook his head. No, he didn't have the luxury to linger in the past. The compartment's door slid open, breaking Harry's reverie. A short stocky girl looked at him and grinned. She cupped her hands and placed them near her mouth, shouting, "Hey, Blaise! Call Daphne and Terry will ya? I found us a room!" She tilted her head and looked at Harry, "You don't mind, do you?"

Harry dispelled the enchantment and scooped the bag besides him. "You can sit wherever you like," he said. "I don't really mind as long as you or your friends don't make much noise."

The girl's eyes fell on the book Harry had on top of his lap. She nodded, "Seems fair enough." Offering Harry her hand, she said, "Name's Millicent Bulstrode. You?"

"Harry Potter," Harry said and blinked. The girl had a powerful grip. It was not as strong as some of the hands Harry had shook in his lifetime but it still amazed him. Having had some knowledge of the Wizarding world, he had always viewed the wizards and witches as too weak in terms of physical strength. This just goes to show that wizards and witches should never be underestimated. Mr. Nott himself had quite powerful one but after finding out that the man was a blacksmith, Harry simply set it aside as information he could use later on, not even thinking that the man was also a wizard.

"Related to the Boy-Who-Lived-to-be-Arrogant, eh?" Millicent asked jokingly.

Harry made a face and said, "He's not so bad." He let go of her hand. "But then again, he probably treats me differently because I'm his brother."

Millicent sat besides him and looked outside the window. "True. Of course, it isn't always like that; I have an older brother and sister, both who like to torture me daily so I can pretty much vouch that siblings can be a pain in the bum too."

"Hello, Millie," three children chorused and stepped inside the room. They moved, all at once, and ended up pushing each other since the three of them combined didn't fit through the door. A dark-skinned boy stepped into the room after the three clowns, his gaze calm and composed.

"Terribly sorry about that," the boy said and bowed a little. "I'm afraid my friends here haven't realized that they're no longer five-year olds."

"If it makes any difference, Blaise, I'm eight and a half. Hello, Harry," Theodore said and sat on the seat adjacent to Harry's. "How are you this fine morning?"

"Good, if not a bit startled by all these friends of yours."

"Harry, huh? I'm Daphne Greengrass," the girl introduced herself and pointed to the boy who was sitting next to her, "and this is Terry Boot whom we just met in the train."

"Hullo," the boy said, waving his arm awkwardly.

"So," Daphne seemed excited, "which house do you think you'll have?"

The six of them debated on the pros and cons of each house. While the majority liked Ravenclaw or Slytherin, no one wanted to be in Gryffindor for different reasons. Harry didn't want to stay with his brother; Blaise, Theodore and Millicent's families all had old prejudices against the house; Daphne just didn't seem interested and Terry had just been tormented by a couple of second-year Gryffindors inside the train.

Their conversation strayed onto other subjects. They exchanged theories on how they were to be sorted—three of them spoke of a magical hat—and briefly talked about Quidditch. They also talked of the professor they would have in History. Millicent spoke of her two older siblings who both attended Hogwarts and claimed that History of Magic was taught by a ghost. Blaise then added that because of a debate being raised between the Governing Board of Hogwarts, they would have a new professor of History this year. Theodore turned to Daphne to ask who the new professor would be and why the sudden decision, but she was as clueless as the rest of them, despite her mother being a member of the Board.

They would have talked more if it were not for the trolley of sweets that had just arrived. Harry was curious by the assortment of chocolates, candies and pastries that lined up along the trolley. To his friends, he explained that he had never stepped outside their house in all the eleven years of his life therefore, he had not that much knowledge of the Wizarding world besides the information he had acquired from either the Wizarding Wireless or the books from their library.

The five others were astonished by this announcement and decided to buy every kind of sweet that there was on the cart, each insisting that he or she would pay. Finally, after a heated battle of rock, parchment and scissors, Daphne triumphantly dumped the coins on the woman's waiting palm. "Here you go, Harry."

The boy was not at all amused with the behavior of his friends. He was simply curious, he wanted to say, not ravenous. Tentatively, he took a bite from a pastry, aware of five pairs of eyes, watching him. "You know," he said, chewing rapidly, "I don't think I could possibly eat all this."

Theodore grabbed a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans and opened it before passing it around. Millicent took a bite and discovered that her bean tasted of chalk; Daphne's tasted like raw meat and Terry took two at once; one which was rubber and the other which tasted like socks. Blaise had politely declined and Theodore was already eating a Licorice wand, making the others whine at how unfair Theodore was. The box of beans was quietly placed at a corner of the room and ignored for the remainder of the trip.

Harry finished the Pumpkin pastry and was about to reach for a Chocolate Frog when the compartment door snapped open, a boy with blonde hair and an indignant look on his face came stalking in with two others following him. "The nerve of that Potter boy," He grumbled and sat besides Blaise huffily. "You!" He shouted and stood up, his index finger pointing at Harry's direction.

Harry removed the Chocolate Frog's wrapper, caught the hopping piece of chocolate and bit its head off, saying, "I think you have the wrong Potter."

"His name's Harry, Draco."

The boy named Draco frowned. "You mean there are two of you?"

"Yup. I'm the _evil_ twin, by the way." Harry said and rolled his eyes. "Nice to meet you too. Draco is it?"

Draco nodded numbly before introducing Vincent and Gregory, both who were still standing. Harry wished that he knew a spell to make the inside of the room larger; it was getting rather crowded.

By the time the train had stopped—the children were already wearing their uniforms and didn't need to change—the sun had already set. They were given instructions to leave their baggage and follow the older students.

Theodore had fallen in step with Harry who was the last to walk out of their compartment. "Ready for the sorting, Harry?" The boy asked cheerfully.

"Honestly? I hope we're not facing trolls."

They were led to a string of boats by a huge man carrying a pink umbrella by his side. Harry and Theodore sat with two first-year girls who were too busy talking to each other to pay attention to them.

_(A creature of immense power lives underneath these waters, Harry. Be careful.) _Ifrit spoke in Harry's mind, startling him. His Guardians had been awfully quiet since Harry had entered Platform Nine and Three-Quarters.

"Are you alright, Harry?"

_(A kindred of Leviathan.) _Quezacoatl noted. Harry felt uneasy vibes coming from Quezacoatl and knew that the great Guardian didn't like staying near the water. From his studies, he also knew that Quezacoatl had a small rivalry with the other GF, Leviathan, which is why any sensible SeeD wouldn't use a combination of those two junctions.

_(We're almost there.) _Harry assured the GF, his eyes on the lake. Aloud he said, "I'm fine, Theo. Just not a big fan of water."

The boats bumped against the other side of the lake. Relief washed over Harry; he was afraid that the creature that inhabited the lake would try to attack him. He didn't want to use any of his skills, especially with such a large audience about. Perhaps he would visit the lake some other time when there were no onlookers.

The man, Hagrid he was called, brought them inside the castle. There, the professor in charge, Professor McGonagall, took them to the Great Hall where they were to be sorted. Harry's stomach was doing flip-flops. The feeling he had was even worse then that time he had taken the final SeeD examination. At least there, all he had to do was exterminate a nest of monsters and nothing more. He avoided his brother's searching gaze—searching for him, probably.

Once the Sorting Hat had finished its song, Professor McGonagall pulled out a scroll and began calling out names. Harry listened carefully. He didn't recognize most of the names, but he tried to pay attention as much as he could. After all, they might be his future housemates.

Terry who was near the top of the list was sent to Ravenclaw which made Harry beam with pride. The boy was rather smart; you just had to drag him out of his shell a bit. Millicent was sent to Slytherin, cheers echoing from the Slytherin table. Vincent went next, followed by Gregory and Daphne. Draco and Theodore were both sent to Slytherin as well. Harry couldn't help but wonder if there was some sort of conspiracy between the Sorting Hat and his friends. Terry, it seemed, looked disappointed as well.

"Potter, Harry."

Whispers erupted from the tables, making Harry flinch inwardly. He wished they didn't have to make such a big fuss of his name. It wasn't like he was the _Boy-Who-Lived_ after all. Harry snorted at the thought and sat on top of the stool.

_(Oh dear.)_ It was the Sorting Hat. _(I'm afraid, I'm lost.)_

_(We have an intruder in our hands, Boss.)_

_(Should we dispose it?)_

_(No!)_Harry thought hurriedly. _(He's supposed to be inside my head.)_

_(You have such interesting…friends, Mr. Potter.)_ The Sorting Hat said cheerfully. _(Is it always this crowded in here? Never mind. As much as I want to talk to you, I have a sorting to do.) _For a moment, the hat fell silent. _(Such an interesting past as well...If Albus had the luxury of sifting through your memories as I have…well let's just say you wouldn't like what would happen next.)_

_(You won't tell him…would you?)_

_(Of course not, Mr. Potter. I assure you that all your secrets will be safe with me. One of the things so special about me is the confidentiality spell that was cast on me. You could go to me at anytime and tell me of your troubles without any worries at all.)_

_(Thanks.)_

_(There are a lot of things in store for you, Mr. Potter and I wish you the best of luck. Also, do try not to let your guard down when in the presence of manipulative headmasters.)_

_(I will.)_

"Slytherin!"

Harry took the Hat off his head and placed it on the stool. When he looked up, it was Maverick's eyes he met. Eyes that were filled with betrayal. Evil twin indeed.

He coolly walked towards his friends and sat besides them, his eyes remained glued to the table even when Maverick's name was called. He wasn't disappointed or angry that he had been placed in Slytherin. His friends were with him and, although he had heard of some bad things about this house, he knew that not everyone who came from this house was bad. The only problem he could think of—besides his brother—was the headmaster. The man might wonder why he ended up being in Slytherin and try to connect it with his sudden disappearance about five years ago.

"Ravenclaw!"

Harry looked up in surprise. He had been expecting his brother to go to Gryffindor, since the boy had always wanted to follow their father and mother's footsteps. Maverick had put the hat down and looked directly at Harry for a moment. He then moved to the Ravenclaw table, ignoring the shocked stares he received. The Potters had _always_ been in Gryffindor.

"Well, well. What a surprise," Draco said, smirking. "None of you qualified for Gryffindor. Are you sure you're a Potter, Potter?"

If looks could kill, Draco would be dead and buried six feet under. Of course, if looks _could _kill, Harry would be dead as well. Sitting behind a long table where the professors were to dine, a tall thin man with a hooked-nose stared at Harry with vehemence. He shuddered. What a way to start the school year; his brother hates his guts and a professor's already giving the Evil Eye. Just _great_.

* * *

A/N: Just to be clear, Snape's not going to be evil in this fic. Seriously. Those were just first impressions. (Is afraid of any obsessive Snape fan. Has to deal with one at home.) 

That said, I don't know if the next update is going to come along just as fast. I haven't read the canon in a long time so I'm pretty much trying to remember the major events that happened during his first year. If anyone can point me to fic a that has all the major events, that would be lovely.

As always, questions, comments and critiques(although unloved) are welcome.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Harry was the first to wake up among his friends. Making his way through the rows of beds and into the Common Room, he stopped when he saw a seventh-year student seated on one of the couches. The young man was just as surprised as he was. "Early riser, huh?"

Harry nodded. "Are we allowed out of the school grounds at this time of day?"

The young man shrugged. "Depends. Where are you planning to go?"

"The lake."

"Curious about the Giant Squid eh?" He grinned. "I'm not sure if students are allowed but it's not like you're going anywhere."

"What do you mean?" Harry frowned. "Are you going to stop me or something?"

"Yup. We always have a meeting on the first day of school here in the Common Room. It's mostly for the little firsties though so once you're a second-year, it's no longer mandatory for you to attend."

"Why?"

"Well basically, we tell you some important school rules, the ones that are easily broken anyway and we choose."

"Choose what?" Now, Harry was _really_ confused.

"You'll know once the others get here. In the mean time, why don't you sit with me and tell me about yourself. My name is Maximus Bittercloud the Third." Maximus said, wincing. He didn't seem too fond of the "Third" part. "You can call me Maxus instead, for obvious reasons. My parents weren't feeling very creative when they named me."

They talked about several things while they waited for the others to wake up. Maximus was quite the storyteller and Harry enjoyed listening to him talk about school. Professor Snape, the man who was glaring at Harry the night before, was to be their Potions professor as well as the Head of the Slytherin house. Maximus assured Harry that the man wasn't so bad as long as one worked hard on one's studies. Harry felt a bit of relief at that. Working hard was one of the things he was good at. Professors? He wasn't so sure; most of the education he received was from Donovan which meant that he had not that much experience studying as a normal student.

Maximus also warned Harry about Professor McGonagall who had always favored the Gryffs over Professor Snape's Slytherins. Harry knew there was a house rivalry between the two, but he didn't expect it to affect the teachers as well. Perhaps he should have focused more on his studies than on his Occlumency training. Then again, if the headmaster ever found out…

Truthfully, Harry didn't know what would happen if the professor found out, but the man _was_ powerful and anyone who would even think of using Legilimency on a child was evil in Harry's opinion. He'd read about it in the book he had bought and how the art of mind-reading could leave scars in a mind as unformed as a child's. He shuddered to think of what might happen if he had successfully entered Simon's mind years ago.

Eventually, the Common Room began to get crowded as students appeared. Maximus gave a nod of acknowledgement to several seventh-years. Harry waved at his friends who had just woken up. Most were in their pajamas and slightly annoyed at the sudden wake-up call they had received from the older students. Surprisingly, it was only Blaise and Draco who actually looked like they were ready; they already wore their school uniforms which made Harry wince. He himself was wearing some Muggle clothing, the very same clothes he had slept in last night. He was glad none of the Slytherins paid any attention to his clothes or else they would be making fun of him now.

"Everyone settled in?" One of the seventh years asked.

"I did a head count, Stormrose. They're all here," Maximus replied.

"Thank you, Bittercloud. I'll take it from here." The seventh-year said. To the first-years, she introduced herself as Alison Stormrose and began talking about the different school rules just as Maximus had said. From the way she glared at the first-years, Harry knew that they would all think twice before going against Alison and her rules. He would.

After her lecture, Maximus had stepped in and briefly explained the term Choosing. Each first-year would get an older student to sponsor for them. The sponsors are in charge of showing the first-years around the school as well as help the first-years adjust. If these first-years needed help with lessons or advice, they could go to their sponsors. Simply put, these sponsors are to act as their older brother or sister during the school year. It was common actually, that some students would sponsor their own blood.

The first-years lined up along the wall so that the other students could choose easily. Millicent was the first to be taken. Her brother, a fifth year, seemed rather fond of Millicent despite the glowering looks the girl sent his way. Blaise was the next to leave the line, chosen by one of the seventh students whose uncle, it seemed, was employed under Blaise's father. Millicent's older sister, a third-year, chose Theodore to sponsor, claiming that, although they weren't cousins by blood, Theodore was still family. Harry was shocked by how connected the Slytherins were to each other, be it by blood or by business, though not as shocked as Draco when Harry was chosen by Maximus.

Of course, Harry had no clue as to why the room had suddenly turned silent by Maximus's decision. He resolved to go to the library after all this and research the old pureblooded families. Maybe then he would understand the other Slytherins' reactions. Now if only they would stop staring at him…

* * *

Albus Dumbledore was furious. No, he was more than furious. He was livid with rage. Two Potters had slipped from his grasp, one which went to Ravenclaw…and the other to Slytherin. He had tried convincing the Hat for a resorting but it was rather adamant and even decided not to speak with him until he had calmed down and stopped acting like a five-year old—the very Hat's words. Gulping down one of the lemon drops he always carried, he began feeling its effects on him. The calming potion which was mixed in with the lemon drop might not remove the monstrous headache he had but it did clear his head enough for him to start planning. 

"I'll make things right again, soon enough."

* * *

Maverick followed Terry and Morag to the Great Hall, his eyes watching the other students warily. After Harry was sorted to Slytherin, Maverick no longer cared where he was sorted. Originally, he wanted to be sorted with Harry in Gryffindor. Everyone suspected it after all but…why? Why was Harry in Slytherin? Maverick shook his head sadly. Maybe it was because he wasn't paying enough attention. When he saw Ron—who wasn't talking to him, by the way—he forgot that Harry was by his side and ran to talk with the redhead. He wanted to introduce Harry to Ron, whom he met briefly during his eleventh birthday, but his brother was nowhere in sight. Even more annoying was the fact that Ron kept blabbing and blabbing on about something or another, preventing Maverick from looking for his twin. 

"Hey, Harry," Terry shouted and waved at Maverick's twin who had just entered the Great Hall. Besides him was a medium built man with dark brown hair and eyes the color of a stormy sea. The man had seen them first and dragged Harry who didn't look too happy. Maverick took a step back, his eyes on Harry.

"Hello."

"So you're Harry's friends, eh?" The man asked cheerfully. "I'm Maximus Bittercloud, by the way."

Harry grumbled under his breath.

"What did you say, Harry?" Maximus slapped the first-year's back and grinned. "Come now, don't be so shy."

"The Third. Your name is Maximus Bittercloud the _Third_."

Maximus pouted. "You know…you didn't have to mention that."

"But your name wouldn't be complete," Harry teased.

Maverick envied the way Harry was so at ease with Maximus. They couldn't have met before, Maverick was sure of that, so how come his brother was so friendly with this stranger. He turned away. "I'm hungry," he announced. "Nice meeting you, Bittercloud."

"Maverick."

He gave his brother a questioning look. "What is it, Brother?"

"He's your brother, Harry?"

Harry's gaze softened. "We Slytherins aren't the epitome of evil, Mav. Didn't they teach you anything?"

"I'm not the one who—" Maverick stopped himself by biting his lip. No, it wouldn't do to give away Harry's secret. "The Slytherins took you away from me. That's as much evil as it gets."

* * *

Simon closed his eyes and sighed, his right hand tightened on the small knapsack he had brought with him. Donovan, who was driving, glanced at his direction and frowned. "Are you alright, Simon?" 

Simon touched his aching head with his left—he didn't sleep much last night—and groaned. "Are we almost there yet, Donovan?"

"Thirty minutes at least," Donovan answered and turned back to look at the road, concentrating. He didn't want to hit any stray fiends that happened to cross their path; cleaning the car of monster blood was too much of a hassle for him. "Tired?"

"Spent the whole night looking through the library," Simon said and grimaced. "I should have asked for some aspirin before I went to the parking lot."

"Simon, you're not trying to catch some imaginary deadline. Take as much time as you need. I'm sure Harry won't mind the wait," Donovan spoke softly, obviously concerned.

Simon pulled his bag close and hugged it; his eyes which were now open stared at the road ahead. Thirty minutes until they would arrive at Galbadia Garden. He could wait that long couldn't he? "Wake me up when we get there, will you?" He asked. _I'm going to find a way to get to you, Harry. _Simon thought fervently, his eyes about to close once more. _I know you need as much help as you can get._

* * *

_Then why didn't you come to Slytherin with me? I'm sure the Hat would understand._ Harry swallowed the words down and looked up at the Great Hall ceiling. He heard footsteps and knew that Maverick and the other Ravenclaws were walking towards their table. He faced Maximus who was staring at him, a meaningful expression on his face. 

"A lot of Slytherins get heartbroken," the seventh-year said sympathetically. "Especially when they get separated from their siblings, their family, or when they don't reach the expectation of going to the 'right' house." He patted Harry's shoulder. "You're not alone." Suddenly he laughed, his voice filled with bitterness. "Of course, there are also those who rejoice at the thought of separation, particularly when their relationship with the rest of the family is strained."

"Are you…?"

He tilted his head and shook it after some thought. "No." He sauntered towards the Slytherin table, his face as light and merry as usual. "Most of my family is in Slytherin so that's where the expectation is. I think, out of everyone, I was the only one who was actually disappointed that the Hat chose to put me in the serpent's house."

"Why?" Harry sat down on a vacant chair and placed some toast on his plate. "Don't you like it here?"

"Oh, I do. I was just extremely curious. I wanted to be in Gryffindor and see why my family was so against that house. The Hat though, told me that I had the mind of a Slytherin so I decided not to argue with its choice." Maximus stuffed a spoonful of scrambled egg into his mouth. A hand darted out of nowhere and snatched the piece of bread Maximus was about to place into his mouth as well.

"Stuffing your mouth with food is not a good habit, Bittercloud."

The voice belonged to Alison. Harry glanced upwards and saw her whack Maximus with her free hand.

"Ow! You don't have to hurt me like that, you know."

"As your future wife, I have the right to hurt you like that. Especially when you're eating like a pig again."

Harry choked on his pumpkin juice. "Wife?"

Maximus rolled his eyes and gulped down the muffin he had grabbed from someone else's plate. "Arranged marriage."

"At least we don't hate each other. Right, lover-boy?" Alison asked sweetly and smirked.

"I would sooner marry a house-elf, thank you very much."

Harry listened to the two bicker with interest. They reminded him of Oula and Math, actually, two SeeDs who used to accompany him during the times he was allowed to venture outside the Garden or go to the city. He missed them terribly but did not let the memory weigh him down. There was no use in reminiscing if it only led to making his heart ache with sadness.

"What are you doing, Harry?" Theodore inquired as he sat besides the boy.

"Amusing myself."

"So it seems," Theodore said humorously and began piling food on his plate. "I heard you met with your brother."

Harry flinched and looked down at his hands which had tightened around the glass of pumpkin juice firmly. "Don't remind me. What did Bulstrode mean when she said you were part of the family, anyway?" Harry asked, hoping to change the subject.

"Oh," Theodore poured himself some coffee. "Mum's sister is married to one of her uncles. We're not exactly blood-related, but the Bulstrodes were nice enough to accept us as part of their family. Then again, Aunt Miriam is a _really _influential person."

"What does your mother do, anyway?" Harry wondered. "Didn't you say she was involved in some pretty dangerous work?" He knew Theodore might not want to answer him but his curiosity got the better of him.

"I don't think Dad would take the news of my being in Slytherin very well," Theodore grumbled under his breath.

"Uh, Theo?"

"Yes?"

"Never mind."

"Mr. Potter." The voice made Harry jump from his seat. The chair tipped and fell, making heads turn at their direction. The sound was loud enough to draw the attention of the staff as well.

"Yes?" Harry asked, once he got a look at the speaker. It was Professor Snape, the Head of the Slytherin house. He tensed; his hand readied the throwing knife he always carried. Although the katana was the central weapon in which he trained, he also knew enough about knives to defend himself. A katana was far too large to carry around and Harry didn't want anyone giving him suspicious looks. A knife, on the other hand, was more convenient and lighter too.

Professor Snape stared at him, his eyes which were filled with loathing the night before were now impassive. Harry took it as a good sign. "Come with me. The Headmaster wishes to talk to you."

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the increasing number of OCs. I hope I don't overwhelm you guys. By the way, the next update won't be until next week at least. The school projects which I've been ignoring for the past few weeks are almost due and I haven't started on any of them. Oops. 

As always, questions, comments, criticisms and one-word sentences(not terribly fond of this kind though) are welcome. Oh, and if you found any mistakes, it's my fault. I haven't the time to go over them thrice(usual procedure before I post them). Sorry. I don't have the luxury of a beta-reader.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Harry followed Professor Snape, wondering what he had done to get the headmaster's attention. Surely it wasn't because he was placed in Slytherin? Harry gulped and concentrated on keeping his mental shields steady. The headmaster might suddenly attack him after all.

A hiss from the corridor caught his attention. He stopped and turned his head to get a better look. Thunder sauntered towards him and mewed.

"Mr. Potter, we don't have all day. Move along now." Professor Snape commanded. His eyes fell on the kitten. "And if you simply _must_ bring the…furball, do so before I change my mind."

Harry obeyed and picked Thunder up. They made their way towards a large stone gargoyle whose wings were half-open. It stared at them hungrily and the spear it carried shifted slightly. Harry opened his mouth to ask the professor a question but the man shook his head and pressed his index finger against his lips. "Licorice wand."

The gargoyle snarled and grudgingly leaped aside. The Potions Master ushered Harry inside.

"What was that?" Harry blurted once they were inside the Headmaster's office. He had never seen such a creature before, even in his studies. If the gargoyle had attacked them, Harry might be forced to reveal some of his skills as a SeeD. "And why weren't we allowed to speak?"

"That, Mr. Potter, is a stone gargoyle. They are often docile creatures who will not attack but, after a certain group of students decided to play a prank on the gargoyle the headmaster had last year, we had to hire a more…aggressive one. Simply put, the bothersome beast likes to attack any poor fool who happens to speak within a five foot radius around him. If you were actually listening to the headmaster's announcements, then perhaps you would know this already."

_Well sorry for being preoccupied, sir. _Harry thought grumpily but did not speak. The man didn't seem inclined to talk to him anymore so Harry chose to look around the office instead. The man watched him silently, making Harry feel conscious of his actions. He moved to touch the Sorting Hat which was sitting majestically on top of its stool.

_(Hello, young one.)_

_(I didn't know you could talk to me like this.)_ Harry replied in surprise. He had almost dropped Thunder.

_(A touch will do for communication but if I wish to look through your thoughts, you must put me on.)_

_(I see. Do you know why the headmaster called for me? I didn't do anything wrong.)_

Harry felt a paroxysm of anger flow through him. _(I'm afraid I do not know. Albus does not discuss his plans with me as other headmasters have done. It is because he does not trust me anymore.)_

_(You're angry at him aren't you?)_

_(Hogwarts was not what it used to be anymore; it was a lot more glorious then. Perhaps it is not his fault…but I still blame him for a lot of things, especially the treatment he had given Mr. Riddle way before he was the headmaster.) _If hats could sigh, the Sorting Hat would have produced a weary one. _(But that was the past, and I have no plans of having History repeat itself again. Here, take this key.)_

Harry felt cold metal melt from the seams of the hat. His hand closed on it. _(What is this for, sir?)_

_(Carry it around you always. You do not have to worry about losing it, as it will find you wherever you may be. It is my way of communicating with you like your Guardians.)_

As if on queue, the two GFs spoke in chorus; their voices which echoed like bells inside Harry's head made the boy winced. _(He is near. Prepare yourself, Harry.)_

He stuffed the key in his pocket and went back to stand besides Professor Snape who was eyeing him curiously.

Professor Dumbledore appeared from the fireplace, dusting the ash off his robes as he walked towards them. "Welcome." The old man said and smiled, his eyes twinkling as usual. "Severus, I wish to speak to the boy alone. Would you kindly step out of my office for a moment? I assure you it won't take long."

The man gave a hesitant nod and left, leaving Harry all alone. "You called for me, sir?"

"Yes, Harry." The headmaster motioned for Harry to sit on one of the chairs but the boy remained standing. "I…simply wanted to know how your first day of school went."

"Pretty uneventful," Harry answered. "I haven't met any of the teachers yet except Professor Snape."

"Ah." The headmaster paused for a moment as if he had just realized something.

_A mistake perhaps?_ Harry wondered. "Is that all you wish to talk to me about, sir?"

"No, dear child; I also wanted to know how you are coping with half your memories missing."

Harry shrugged. "I don't really mind not remembering, sir. The missing memories probably won't hinder me as much as you think it would. Besides, the Slytherins are very helpful."

"The Slytherins…" The headmaster didn't look like he was about to let Harry go. "Tell me, are you having problems in that House? Are they…troubling you?"

"Not at all, sir." Harry felt irritated by the old man's implications. Was he saying that they weren't treating him properly? "As I've said, they're very helpful."

"Surely not all of them are?"

"I haven't exactly gotten to know any of them fairly well," Harry spoke through gritted teeth.

The headmaster took out a silver coin from inside his many pockets and began fiddling with it. "From what I've heard, they can be quite sly. Dangerous too, if you're not careful."

Harry opened his mouth to argue but stopped. He felt a surge of despair from within his gut as memories played through his mind's eye. He remembered briefly the look Draco had given him this morning; dog-eared pages from an old tome, the lines blurred and appeared clearly, speaking of old Slytherin wizards who had turned Dark; Professor Snape, glaring at him from the long table; Voldemort screaming in fury as the Killing Curse rebounded…

_(Slytherins are evil manipulative creatures.)_ A voice echoed along the vast chamber of his mind. Faintly, he could hear others too in the distance but try as he might, he could not hear them. _(Do not trust them.)_

"Do not trust them," he murmured.

For a while, the voice continued to speak to him, cajoling him. As the voice talked, memories continued to flow, most of which he did not recognize at all. He squeezed something after quite a frightening memory and yelped. Pain shot through his shoulder and he screamed. The voices which were once dim grew louder in his mind trying to take over. Power flowed through his veins, clawing against his skin. He fell down to his knees, struggling to control his magic. Gasping for air, he saw the headmaster's astonished expression as he looked up before darkness swamped him.

* * *

Maverick grimaced and touched his arm, his fingertips shaking. He tried to focus on listening to Professor McGonagall but the pain was too much to bear; he could not ignore it so easily. Morag, who sat besides him, gave him a look of concern. 

"Are you alright?" The boy asked quietly, afraid to be caught speaking to another student.

He nodded and opened his hand slowly, one finger at a time. He let go of his arm and placed both hands on his desk, gripping it tightly. Forcing his facial features to remain calm and stoic—he didn't want any attention directed at him, after all—he took deep measured breaths until the pain finally subsided. _Harry…did something happen again?_

* * *

_(How did this happen?) _A soft gentle sound echoed inside Harry's mind. _(What caused him to be like this?)_

The next voice was rougher and had a leathery feel to it. _(I do not know just yet but I have my suspicions. That coin he took out just might be the tool he used to capture Harry's interest and initiate the spell but, if you wish to know the exact means in which he managed to trap Harry like that, then I'm afraid I do not have enough information to answer you.)_

_(I say we make Harry summon us and teach the old coot a lesson.) _The next words came in a form of a growl and felt like heat far too warm for comfort. _(Who cares about what method he used to hurt Harry?)_

_(There may be a reason as to why he did that, Ifrit.) _It was the second voice again; it sounded touchy and not at all too happy with the suggestion. _(He _is _the headmaster of the school. To stake his reputation like that, even in front of a student…it would either mean that he is planning something even I cannot fathom as of yet…or that he truly looks at Harry as a threat.)_

_(Or both.)_ The three creatures which inhabited Harry's mind turned to look at the newcomer. Harry waved his hand and grinned. _(Talking about me behind my back, you guys?)_

_(We were simply discussing Albus's recent…actions.)_

_(Master Hat wanted to find out if Albus had a motive for using that spell on you.)_

_(Master Hat?) _Harry looked amused. _(I don't know the motive either but I have a feeling that it has something to do with controlling me. And possibly hating the Slytherins.)_

_(The old boy still hasn't let you go on that?) _The Sorting Hat inquired. _(I thought, perhaps, he knew of our friends' existence and wanted you to go against them.)_

_(He doesn't know, fortunately, or else we'd be toast.) _Harry said, his eyes on the two Guardian Forces who stood near the hat._(Besides, the only images I saw were of the Slytherin's evil deeds, from something as simple as a prank to something as awful as…slaughtering thousands of Muggles in the blink of an eye.)_

_(I did refuse to resort you, Harry.) _The Sorting Hat spoke. _(He knew that the only other way for you to go to a different house was if you willingly asked for a resorting. Then and only then can I not refuse such a request.)_

_(So he wanted me to hate Slytherin enough to choose a different house instead? Ok, it does seem kind of logical. What I can't understand though is why my magic went out of control.)_

_(Perhaps I can explain that, Harry.) _Quezacoatl said and moved to its full height. _(Your magic probably reacted violently with the spell. Because of its…peculiar nature, it must have seen the spell the headmaster had cast as dangerous and tried to remove it from your system.)_

_(So my magic acts like an immune system fighting against harmful spells?)_

_(Yes, I suppose it does.)_

_(Why do I have this power anyway? And is it possible for me to be able to control this aspect of my magic?) _Harry wondered. _(It'd be very useful, especially if I am to fight a certain Dark Lord someday.)_

_(I do not understand this kind of magic yet.) _The hat spoke slowly._(And I myself do not know the origin of your magic's ability. But from what I do know and understand, it can be done but only if your magic is strong enough in terms of quantity to fight the spell cast on you.)_

_(So, in theory, I can even stop the Killing curse?)_

_(You did it once, if that memory I saw was real.) _The hat said. _(I think you should guard it more carefully though. If the headmaster ever found out that you were the true Chosen one, the spell he tried to use on you would look like…well, like a walk in the park compared to the other more powerful spells that can be damaging to your mentality.)_

_(Ouch.)_Harry winced and sighed. _(Well, can you think of anything I could do to improve my Occlumency shields?)_

_(Only that you need a master of the Occlumency to teach you. Your knowledge alone will not suffice. He might be fooled the first time but…even the tricks you've thought of are not enough for someone as powerful as he.)_

_(Can you teach me? I mean, you must have some knowledge of it.) _Harry sounded eager. He knew it was vital for his memories to stay hidden from the headmaster and needed something he could rely on once Professor Dumbledore decided to attack him with Legilimency.

_(Sadly, I am not a master of the art as I am but a hat but I do know of one person who can teach you Occlumency.)_

_(Really? Who?)_

_(Professor Severus Snape.) _

_(That man? But I—but he hates me!)_

_(Are you sure of that, Harry?)_

_(Well, he did glare at me that first day.)_

_(There are…reasons why he did what he did but he is still a sensible man. He is also the Head of your House and you _will_ have to trust him sooner or later.)_

_(I prefer the later part.) _Harry said dourly. _(But I'll do what you say and give the man a chance.)_

_(Very good, Harry.) _The hat said approvingly. _(Now I believe it is time for you to wake up.)_

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. I'm still recovering from all those projects I had to do (Yes, I'm pathetic that way.) and my mind just isn't working properly. Random question: how do the students know when the class is finished? Is there a bell that signals the end of a class? It's been so long since I've read the canon so I was just wondering. 

As always, questions, comments, critiques and rotten tomatoes(am joking) are welcome.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

"Potter, Harry."

The door burst open and in came a small stocky boy, clutching his school bag tightly. He walked to the front of the class and looked around. "Am I late?"

The scroll which hovered in front of the diminutive professor rolled shut and fell on top of the large untidy desk. "That depends." Professor Flitwick said and tried to step down the pile of books on which he stood, his arms flailing about as the books shook from the sudden movement. He jerked his wand and the shaking stopped. Sighing in relief, he finally settled his feet on the floor and crossed his arms. "Well?"

"I was just released from the Hospital Wing?" The boy asked and looked up, his eyes half-hidden by long dark bangs which had grown since the past year. Harry wanted to look the part of the twin and had let his cropped hair grow, even if it was a constant nuisance. He knew it was vital though; not knowing how his brother would look, he had to rely on the image of his father who was supposed to look a lot like the two brothers. If they did not recognize him as the long lost twin, there would be no way that Harry could keep an eye on his brother and attend Hogwarts which was important to his education.

"Mr. Potter!"

He blinked. "Pardon?" He had gotten lost in his thoughts again, a habit he didn't wish to cultivate.

The professor let out a sigh and shook his head. "I was asking you how you came to be in that sort of situation."

Harry blinked again. He gave the professor a cheeky grin and said, "Ask Professor Dumbledore. It was his fault I was there in the first place." Not waiting for the professor's reply, Harry whistled a jaunty tune and sat at the only place available. The bushy-haired Ravenclaw who was seated besides him, gaped.

"You're joking, right?" The girl whispered loudly, making it hard for everyone else to not hear what she said.

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat and climbed on top of the stack of books, speaking in his best professor voice as he did so. "Charms is the very foundation of wizardry. Without it, we would not have half the number of spells we have today." With a twitch of his wand, the scroll flapped open. "And being late in my class is inexcusable. I will only let you go on the premise that I have been informed that the Headmaster did wish to speak to you…and the fact that today is the first day of class."

_(Is he always this harsh, Master Hat?) _Harry inquired, adopting the nickname his Guardians used for the old battered hat. The professor called out his name again to which he replied with a wave of his hand. Maverick who was sitting two rows away raised his hand once his name had been called. Names were called as Harry waited for the hat's answer.

_(Not always, Harry. He's always been a good professor and very approachable from what I hear. He also has considerable potential for the status of Deputy Headmaster if Albus ever wished to retire and Professor McGonagall took over. This, I doubt, would happen anytime soon though.)_

The image of the tiny professor walking down the hallway, carrying a large neon sign which flashed Deputy Headmaster to every passing student almost made Harry burst into laughter. Almost.

"Something funny, Potter?" The girl was looking at him suspiciously. It must be because of the silly grin planted on his face.

He adopted a more serious expression and shook his head in denial. "No. I'm just happy to be learning." He whispered back. "And don't say things too loudly; you're attracting us too much attention."

The girl blushed and shifted her gaze towards the white feather which rested on top of their desk. Mumbling something along the lines of an apology, she went back to watching the professor with absolute interest.

_(That was not a very good image, Harry.) _The hat admonished the boy. _(I am quite serious when I say that Professor Flitwick is a good teacher. Just because he gave you the wrong impression does not mean that you can just go about making fun of him. Even if it _was_ only a thought.)_

_(Sorry.)_ The boy said, trying to sound the part and failing miserably. He knew not to expect an answer from the hat so he went back to listening to the professor who seemed to be in a better mood.

"Charms is every bit as complicated as transfiguring live animals into inanimate objects or brewing potions which can regrow one's bones. In my class, not only do I teach you spells which will be useful in your daily lives, but I will also teach you the theory behind the magic to better understand the spell's workings. Other classes will cover this as well but not to the extent that you will receive from me."

One of the students, a Ravenclaw from the necktie he wore, asked, "So you're saying that if we can understand how it works it would give us a higher percentage to cast the spell correctly?"

"Yes. Do not be disheartened though if you do not understand the material—although I doubt any of you would have any problems—as I am available after classes for some extra help."

Professor Flitwick then began talking about Levitation Charm; he spoke a bit of its background history, how it differed from spells of the same family, the wand movements, spell pronunciation, and even gave examples of situations where the Levitation Charm would come in handy. By the time the lecture had ended and the students were prompted to try out the spell, Harry had to admit that the man was indeed likable. There was something about the way he would say everything so eagerly that made Harry want to learn more then ever. Maybe being a bookworm was infectious here.

"Aren't you going to try out the spell?" The girl asked impatiently. She was looking at Harry with her arms crossed and her nose up high.

"Ladies first?" Harry said in reply and shrugged. He wanted to see how the other students did first before making his own attempt at having the feather float. The girl did as their professor demonstrated, swishing her wand this way and flicking it like that. Her intonations were perfect and sounded eerily alike the professor's. The feather floated.

"Very good, Ms. Granger," the professor chirped. "Five points to Ravenclaw for being the first to perform the spell correctly." Light applause came from the other Ravenclaws, all who seemed delighted at the prospect of a few points.

Once the professor had gone to another student for help, Harry took a deep breath and did just as the Granger girl had done. Instead of making the feather float, nothing had happened. "Wingardium Leviosa." He repeated, his eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"Your execution of the spell _is _perfect." Granger said, her expression matching Harry's. "So why isn't it working?"

"Hey, don't ask me." Harry grumbled. _(Did the old coot do something to me?)_

_(Professor Snape had arrived shortly after you had become unconscious so I don't believe the headmaster would have any time to place such a spell on you.) _Quezacoatl answered.

_(Anyway, he doesn't really have any reason to.)_ Harry thought.

_(Agreed.)_

"Professor Flitwick!" Granger said and waved her hand furiously. "We need your help."

Harry could have smacked her for being so loud. He groaned instead, and ignored the curious faces which were staring at him. No, there was no use attracting more attention.

"Yes, Ms. Granger? Is there a problem?"

Granger stabbed her elbow against Harry's ribs, almost causing the boy to jump out of his seat. Rubbing his aching side, he gave the girl a glare before explaining to the professor, "I can't make the feather float."

"But he does the movements like it should be." Granger added, seemingly oblivious to Harry's venomous looks.

"Maybe he's a Squib," Draco—no, _Malfoy_ shouted and laughed. Some snickered at his comment while others simply ignored him. Harry thanked whoever was listening that the Ravenclaws were far too serious with their studies to laugh at a struggling student. He also felt grateful at the fact that his Slytherin friends—the ones who weren't currently hanging with Malfoy—did not laugh as well.

Professor Flitwick made a displeased squeak and looked at Harry expectantly. "Please do the spell again, Mr. Potter."

Harry nodded and did as he was told, concentrating as hard as he could. Nothing happened. From the professor's deathly pale expression, Harry knew that things did not bode well.

Gripping the desk tightly, he whispered in a solemn voice, "Come here when all your classes are finished. I need to talk to you in private concerning your…magical core."

"Am I really a Squib?"

The small man shook his head. "But there is something that prevents you from spellcasting correctly. We will try to cure that. In the meantime, you two can go and read ahead. You may also start on the homework." He cleared his throat and said, "I need an essay on the history of the Levitation Charm and how it was developed. Since this is your first day, I will not ask for a required length. Just make sure that it isn't three sentences long. Or four for that matter." Harry heard the professor mutter.

Harry took out his book for Charms and stared at it for a moment. He had no time during the summer to go through his books—focusing instead on strengthening his mental shields—so he had felt some doubt when the spell did not work for him. His eyes scanned the contents of the first chapter, unaware that a certain bushy-haired girl was staring at him. By the time he had finished the first chapter, a task that had not taken him longer than five minutes—he was a fast reader, partly due to Simon's influence—Granger seemed ready to burst from her questions.

"Why do you think the spell didn't work? What was that about your magical core? How far have you read the textbook? Have you read Hogwarts, A History? That book is really great! It's about—"

"You do know that by speaking so quickly, I would not be able to answer your questions properly." Harry pointed out. This quickly shushed the girl down but from her smoldering glare, Harry knew that there was no way he could get out of the girl's questionings.

Which is why he was relieved when he heard the sound of the Hogwarts bell, signaling the end of class. He stuffed his things inside the bag he carried and jumped on top of the table, realizing only too late that he had once again drawn unnecessary attention to himself. _At least I didn't try flipping. _Harry thought as he dashed out of the other students' way, running to his next class. He slowed after some time and waited for Theodore and Daphne who were having a heated debated on the issue of Defense which they had just before lunch. He listened to them in silence as they made their way to the next class.

History was not taught by a ghost as it had been years before. Now, it was taught by a woman in her mid-forties with graying hair and a pair of sharp eagle-like eyes. She had introduced herself as Professor Greyhart once the group of Slytherin students had taken their places around the classroom and, with a snap of her wand, made pieces of parchment fly towards each student. It was a map of Hogwarts; she explained and went through the maps simple features briskly. Since they were to study about the history of Hogwarts for their first year—there had been a change of curriculum—she felt that a map would help them greatly during the course of the school year.

What was…strange about this woman were the features she had. Harry, after careful scrutiny, had realized that she shared certain physical characteristics with another member of the Hogwarts staff. Daphne, who seemed to be good with connecting things, asked if she was related to Madam Hooch, their would-be instructor for flying. The professor answered the question with a bit of enthusiasm, saying that the woman was indeed her younger sister. Hooch, it seemed, was her actual maiden name.

This opened an opportunity for the Slytherins to ask her all sorts of questions. Slytherins, as was common knowledge, often liked to use any information acquired for bettering themselves and Harry knew that some of the students were asking her, not because of curiosity, but because they wanted to be able to use some of the information later on. Professor Greyhart didn't mind though but refused to answer some of the more personal questions. After a while, Professor Greyhart asked them to stop their barrage of questions and had each student talk in front of class about themselves. May as well get to know you people, she had said.

Everyone complied—although some, grudgingly—and each took a turn to speak in front of the class. Harry paid close attention in true Slytherin fashion and made mental notes of these Slytherin classmates of his. When it was his turn to speak, he made his introduction clear but brief. He didn't like speaking in the spotlight, especially with so many people watching. Not only that, but he might let slip a clue that could reveal his secrets.

The bell had rung a couple of minutes after the last person had spoken, given Professor Greyhart just enough time to give them some homework. She didn't seem to mind that they had lost some class time but, by giving them some reading material, she assured them that it would be of no difficulty to have them catch up with the other houses.

Herbology was taught by a squat little witch wearing a pair of gardening gloves, a forest green cloak and a matching hat. She had a motherly image about her that made any student like her almost instantly. She was a lot like Professor Flitwick; both were enthusiastic at teaching and both seemed easily approachable, which was the only good thing about Herbology, in Harry's opinion. Because of his studies with Donovan, their instructor, he had a problem with identifying plants. Although some of the plants he saw were similar to the ones he had learned in Balamb Garden, these plants had different magical properties, making it hard for Harry to determine which properties were which. The Abyssinian shrivelfig—a plant they were to learn in their second-year—for example, looked a lot like a Horned Moonwort which was common in areas near Dollet. Both shared the same leaf shape and color—a light blue that reminded Harry of water in its crystal clear form. The Abyssinian shrivelfig though was used as an ingredient for a shrinking potion while the Horned Moonwort was used to subside a Break spell's effects.

Before she got them working on a plant, she named a couple of basic rules which the Slytherins had to obey at all times. Since these Slytherins were mostly from pureblooded families, they already had an idea of how dangerous plants could be. It was part of a Slytherin's nature to question the rules and find ways to work around them but with such rules that could potentially endanger their lives if broken, the Slytherins paid careful heed of Professor Sprout's warnings.

Harry found himself paired with Daphne for the remainder of the school year and was quite relieved by this. She did not seem inclined to follow Malfoy's lead as others had done. Besides her, Theodore was the only one who hung out with Harry and the boy knew that Theodore was a social creature who liked speaking with various people. If Malfoy somehow forced the other Slytherins to stop talking to the three, at least Theodore wouldn't get so bored with speaking to only one person.

Harry's thoughts were interrupted as Daphne gave him a poke. As it turned out, she wanted to know why Harry was missing for most of the morning and Harry answered her quickly, leaving out the Hat's sudden decision to inhabit his mind. The young girl was outraged by the headmaster's actions and had almost cut the wrong part of the plant they had to prune. A spell like that, Daphne said, was bordering on illegal and should not be used against a student. Her mother was part of the board and Daphne insisted that the only way to stop the headmaster from doing such a terrible thing again was if Harry had reported his actions to the board. Daphne swore that Harry's story would be heard even if it meant talking to her mother personally. Harry wasn't so sure if this was a good thing and was about to tell Daphne so when the bell had rung. The girl quickly disappeared into the crowd with a brief goodbye, shouting as she ran that she was going to speak with her mother. As to how she would do this, Harry did not know.

What he did know was that he was going to be late for his appointment with Professor Flitwick if he didn't hurry.

* * *

A/N: For those who don't know, a Break spell is a spell used to turn someone into stone. That said, I'm terribly sorry. If the chapter confused you, it was all my fault. My brain wasn't functioning properly when I wrote this. Plus, I'm trying to write two fics at once and that only makes my brain hate me more than ever.

Hopefully, Greyhart is the last OC I make (for a while anyway...).


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

"Taceo," the tiny professor whispered, tapping the wall with his wand as he spoke. Visible lines of power rose from his office, lines that—from closer inspection—were actually runes written a long time ago. His magic glowed faintly in a bluish tint and seemed to rise from these lines in wavy patterns as if fumes from a potion being brewed. Professor Flitwick turned to his young charge and spoke, "Do you have any idea why your spellwork isn't working, Mr. Potter?"

The boy shook his head. "No sir."

The professor's tense shoulders dropped in a sigh. "Are you aware that there are two…magical creatures living inside of you?"

Harry stiffened with shock. Today was only his second day of school and already someone had found out his secret. Faintly, he recalled his SeeD training. Possible scenarios played through his mind as he thought of the actions he could undertake. None of them looked promising.

"Judging from your expression, I would say that you _do _know of this." The professor placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I can also say that this revelation makes you quite unhappy. Can you, perhaps, tell me why?"

"I-I can't," he said hoarsely and swallowed. "There's too much at risk. If I—" He stopped and looked at the professor desperately. SeeD training focused on combat, on fighting against overly-powerful Sorceresses who had gone crazy. SeeD training didn't prepare Harry for something like this: hiding the truth.

Professor Flitwick sighed and sat on his chair behind the large magnificently carved mahogany table which had a lot of books, parchments and quills displayed in a haphazard fashion. Harry was glad he was standing; if he wasn't, he wouldn't be able to see the small professor. "How do I say this?" The professor asked quietly, his voice barely audible. Louder, he said, "You will have to trust me, Mr. Potter. I do not betray the trust of those who believe in me and—"

"How can I trust you?" Harry asked. "You're not even the Head of my House."

The professor smiled grimly. "Would it really matter, Mr. Potter? Tell me, do you trust Professor Snape with this information?"

"Well," Harry sputtered, looking down.

Professor Flitwick laughed. "I think not."

"That's…different. He—"

"Has his reasons." Professor Flitwick was about to say more but Harry interrupted him.

"Wait. Why does everyone say that anyway? I don't get it. What _are_ his reasons, exactly?"

For a moment, the professor gazed at him gravely. "I'm afraid you'll have to ask him yourself, Mr. Potter." In a lighter tone, he said, "What would you have me do to prove that I mean you no harm? Would a Wizard's Oath suffice? An Unbreakable Vow, perhaps? Both don't work on me, I'm afraid."

"Those two don't work on you, sir?"

"I have…a dash of goblin blood in me, my dear. Why do you think I'm the only who hasn't taken an Oath—" Professor Flitwick stopped talking and scratched his head, his expression turning sheepish. "I wasn't supposed to say that…"

"Say what, Professor?" Harry smiled a little. "I think I know how we can solve this, sir. You tell me what this is all about and I'll tell you about…my two friends here." He tapped his head as he spoke and shrugged. "Unless you have better ideas."

"An exchange of secrets, eh?" Professor Flitwick tilted his head thoughtfully. "So why do I feel as if I'm getting the lesser bargain here? After all, if you tell me your secret, I'd be able to help you with your problem. Nevertheless, I will agree to this. But only because I value my students' education above anything else."

Harry felt his heart constrict. "Sir, I—"

"Albus Dumbledore has been getting paranoid of late. After the War was over, he had made all of his staff swear to him in a Wizard's Oath. It is not as…empowering as the Unbreakable Vow but it is still very constricting. Because of it, certain guidelines have to be followed and—" He paused and shook his head sadly. "He really shouldn't have done that." The professor whispered fiercely. "The Wizard's Oath means you'll have to forfeit a part of your magic to him. Do you know how serious that is?"

Harry paled at the thought. From within his mind, the Hat bristled in anger. _(How dare he?!)_

_(You mean you didn't know?)_

_(He has not let me in his mind for so long. I had assumed it was a matter of privacy. I did not think it was because of this. To know that he had kept such secrets from me…)_

Harry felt the Hat retreat from his mind, unsettling the two Guardians who had decided to listen in to the conversation. _(Sleep well.) _He thought and felt a comforting sensation creep through his bones, relaxing his muscles.

"Are you speaking with your friends, Mr. Potter?"

"Harry, sir. When you say Mr. Potter, the one that comes to mind is my brother…and yes, I was speaking to the Hat, sir."

Professor Flitwick looked mildly surprised. "The Hat? I wasn't aware that he also lived in you."

"He's mostly a visitor." Harry explained. "The other two though…" He hesitated. "Maybe you should take a look at my mind?"

The professor raised an eyebrow, "I am no master of the art of Legilimency, Mr. Potter." He paused and found Harry staring at him, bemused. "Oh alright! Harry it is then. Stop giving me that look, my dear. It is a bit…unnerving."

Harry made a face. "Sorry, but I'm still a bit touchy when it comes to…sibling issues."

Professor Flitwick plucked a piece of hair from his finely-trimmed beard and let it fall on the ground. Muttering a spell under his breath, he flicked his wand and transfigured the hair into a chair. "Sit down, Harry, and tell me everything."

Harry sat, stunned at the show of power. From what little he had read, he knew enough that such transfiguration required power and a great deal of concentration. Plus, the chair was _really _comfy and nice to sink into.

Blinking, he forced his mind to calm down. He took a deep breath and spoke. He was uneasy at first and kept glancing at the door, afraid that the headmaster might suddenly appear, bearing a wand in his left hand and a toothbrush in his right. He mentally banged his head against the wall for that image and sighed. No, it simply felt too unrealistic to happen.

As time passed by though, he felt the tension decrease until he found himself sharing jokes with the diminutive professor. By the time he was finished, the clock had chimed. It was already eight; he had missed dinner.

The professor appeared to hear his stomach grumbling because he had called a house-elf, one named Socky, and asked it to bring them some food. The house-elf was only too happy to comply.

The professor gave Harry instructions that would hopefully fix his problem. From what the professor had gathered, it seemed that the two magical cores embedded with his blocked the flow of his other magic—the wizardly kind anyway. The magic given to him through Drawing spells was used to those magical cores and simply passed them as if part of the original structure of Harry's core. Harry had to meditate and arrange the strands of his Guardians' cores in such a way that his magic could flow correctly again.

How the professor could see Harry's magic in the first place puzzled the boy. He inquired about it as he stuffed a mouthful of mashed potato and immediately regretted doing so. It didn't feel right, eating like a pig in front of the professor, especially when he was asking something that could be important later on.

"We have a lot to talk about still, Harry. I don't think I can give you such a detailed explanation now when it's already past your bedtime. What I can tell you is this. Not everyone has this gift of Sight as we like to call it. Perhaps, if you _do _wish to know more, I can recommend to you some books in the library. For now though, we must tackle each topic, one at a time." The professor took a sip from his tea and asked, "Was there anything that felt unclear about what I said earlier? I know we got side-tracked and I'm terribly sorry for that but we _did _have to solve that problem of yours."

Harry smiled. "It's alright, sir. As for that thing with the headmaster…" He hesitated. He knew he could back down now; if he didn't ask for anything else, then he wouldn't feel guilty about trying to probe the professor's secret. _Then again, it's not like he's the guilty party here. _He took a deep breath and asked.

* * *

The Common Room door slid open, making Daphne perk up from her seat at the couch. She had been chatting with her mother for the past hour as she waited for Harry to come back from his meeting with the professor. Now, seeing the boy stumble inside, she bounced off the worn-out couch to drag poor Harry in front of the fireplace. "Harry, this is my mum. Mum, this is Harry."

"Erm…hello?" Harry said somewhat inquiringly. He was about to ask why Daphne was up so late when the memory of the days events slapped him in the face. Dizzy from the impact, he took a step back and fell on the couch, his eyes unfocused for a moment. "Oh _dear._"

"What's wrong, Harry?" Daphne asked as she sat besides him. Her mother carried a similar expression of worry.

Harry fell silent for a while, his mind busy as he tried to make sense of his actions for the day. He had stood up against the headmaster. That part was clear enough. He had slept for most of the day—that bit had irritated him since he had to catch up to most of his lessons now. He had been accused as a Squib during Charms class. That part he wanted to forget. He had—

"I think perhaps the poor boy should rest a while, don't you think, Daphne? He seems unresponsive."

"No, it's alright, Mrs. Greengrass. I'm fine, really." Harry said, shaken out of his stupor. "I was just…remembering a few things."

"Well at least you haven't decided to do some anti-Slytherinish things like the headmaster wanted you to do." Daphne teased. "I was afraid you were going to try and blow the Common Room up or something."

"He wanted me to change Houses, Daphne, not persecute Slytherins." Harry grumbled, glaring at Daphne darkly.

The girl grinned and raised her hands in surrender. "Whatever you say, Harry."

Harry turned his attention to Mrs. Greengrass who was currently in the form of a flickering flame. Even with a face of fire, Mrs. Greengrass still managed to look amused. "I'm terribly sorry for making both of you late," Harry said. "I hadn't meant to tell Daphne here about the headmaster's actions and the fact that she wanted to tell you sort of slipped my mind, you see."

"It's alright, my boy," Mrs. Greengrass said, smiling at him gently. "I didn't mind the wait; I simply used to opportunity to ask Daphne about her day."

"It was boring," Daphne mumbled, rolling her eyes. Mrs. Greengrass laughed.

"I suppose that's my fault," Mrs. Greengrass said wryly. "Being a member of the board, I've had some insight on what a child learns throughout her years in Hogwarts. I didn't want my daughter to be shipped here all clueless—"

"You make me sound like I'm some kind of package, Mum!"

"—so I've been giving her some school material to work on for the past couple of years."

"I wish I had _that _advantage," Harry said wistfully.

"You wouldn't _want _it. Trust me, Harry. It's going to be a boring seven years."

"I think not, dear child." Mrs. Greengrass admonished. "It may seem easy now, but after a couple of years, you'll be wishing old Mum here had given you some heads-up on the school material."

"Right," Daphne muttered, elongating the one-word syllable.

"Harry, why don't you tell us what that old coot actually did to you? Daphne has already told me but I think it would be even better if I could hear this information coming from you."

Harry hesitated and nodded. His throat was already parched from talking with Professor Flitwick for so long but he didn't want to inconvenience Mrs. Greengrass by making her wait another day.

He opened his mouth.

* * *

Professor Snape stared at the golden phoenix that marred his right forearm. Unpleasant memories surfaced at the back of his mind, making him grimace. He drank the last of his tea and placed the empty cup on the saucer, summoning Morty the house-elf to clean up.

He stood up and paused, rearranging his thoughts as he grabbed a cloak for warmth. He tapped the stone doorway and stepped outside, pulling the cloak close, his eyes flickering at the direction of the Common Room.

He wondered if there was still someone awake. _It's the start of school, you old fool. No one's going to stay up late for a class, that's for sure. _

He stepped forward, a certain potion ingredient in mind.

* * *

"Thank you for the explanation, Harry. Your…statement is truly helpful. I believe the board will find this information useful."

"So you can have Dumbledore replaced now?" Daphne inquired excitedly, squirming in her seat. She looked at Harry and grinned. "I'm not much of a supporter."

"Now, now, child, it isn't as easy as that." Mrs. Greengrass said. "Why do you think the man still has so much power?" To Harry, she said, "Don't go spreading this story now, Harry. It won't do you any good. The headmaster is a powerful man and it will take more than a child's story to have him _dethroned_."

"Even if I tell you that most of his staff is under Oath?" Harry asked skeptically.

Mrs. Greengrass looked at him in surprise. Smiling slyly, she spoke in a whisper, "I wasn't planning to…ask this of you two but I'm afraid that with the current situation, we just don't have enough people. Besides, Harry here seems to have talent and Daphne's had a hand with some of the work before…What say you on the subject of spies?"

* * *

A/N: You will find out when the next update will be in my Bio. I can't stay and write more because certain uh...people are annoying the crap out of me right now.


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